


An Inconceivable Secret

by itssarahndipity



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, Captain Swan AU Month, Captain Swan AU Week, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itssarahndipity/pseuds/itssarahndipity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after giving away her illegitimate son, Emma Swan feels unexpectedly ready to be a mother. Little does she know she’ll soon meet her chosen sperm donor and quite possibly fall in love with him. Of course, why bother telling him she’s pregnant with his child? That would complicate things, surely…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

_This is it. I’m actually going through with this._

Emma Swan took a deep breath, exhaled and opened the door to the fertility clinic. She was greeted by an overly friendly receptionist (geez,  _someone_  took their happy pill this morning), who gave her a form to fill out. Name, address… family medical history? Emma chuckled bitterly to herself and shook her head. Like  _she_  would know. 

The procedure was fairly quick. Sperm goes in, now we wait.

Sitting in her yellow bug in the clinic parking lot, Emma looked back on how her past brought her to this strange moment, one she never would have predicted not long ago…

~~~

She never thought she liked kids.

Growing up in the foster system, she was constantly surrounded by kids of all ages. They were smelly, ill-behaved and, quite simply, a nuisance. She avoided them, for the most part. Ever since her foster family returned her to the home once they had their own child, she just didn’t think she was worth anything to anyone, and so she didn’t bother trying to form close relationships with her peers.

Of course, that all changed when she met Neal Cassidy, a young man who was running away from a bad home situation. In Neal she found someone she connected with, someone with a past similar to hers: they were both without a real home or a family. And Emma Swan was in love, falling quickly and hard and it was everything she could have dreamed of.

When Neal proposed, Emma was overjoyed — finally, a promise for the family she never truly had.

What she did not expect — and who would have? — was that Neal would disappear without a trace just days after the proposal.

Not only was she devastated and determined to never trust anyone ever again, Emma was also a few weeks pregnant. Neal never knew.

Emma battled with herself, trying to decide whether to keep this child. Ultimately, it was the fact that she was young, jobless and without a real home that brought her to realize that a life with an adopted family would allow him a much better chance than a life with her.

And so, once the baby boy was born, Emma shook her head when they tried to pass her her son. Just glancing at his eyes, pure and innocent, brought a stab of pain into Emma’s core — in the boy she first saw her Neal, who had once made her feel priceless and then betrayed her as if she was worth nothing. She then saw a boy who had a life of hope ahead of him, which brought her a sliver of peace in this moment of agony.

Throughout the following years, Emma would once in a while think about the son that she gave away. Any doubts that she had would fade once she remembered her circumstances at the time… and of course that she didn’t like kids, anyway.

~~~

Not long after her little boy was born and promptly taken away, Emma decided she needed to improve her situation. She did waitressing jobs here and there, moved into an apartment, and eventually got herself into nursing school.

Despite having built a life for herself, Emma was still alone. Not that she minded, no. Other people weren’t to be trusted, and she was truly convinced that the solo life was the life for her. But this conviction, while etched into her everyday being for many years, slowly subsided.

A decade after giving away her son, Emma started feeling as though something was missing in her life. This was an odd feeling to her. Until then, she had felt satisfied with her career as a nurse; she had quite a bit of success with it and it took up much of her time. But something just  _wasn’t_   _right_.

Late at night she’d find herself thinking of the child she had turned away many years ago, wondering if he was all right, or even happy. After some time, a peculiar idea popped into Emma’s mind: to have  _another_  baby, one that she would keep this time.

To her surprise, this idea didn’t bother her. In fact, as it brewed, the idea made her feel happier than she had been in a long time. Maybe she wouldn’t mind having a kid after all. She certainly had the means and the maturity to support him or her. And, best of all, this baby would be her companion — a rather more reliable one than any friend or lover would be; the piece in her soul she didn’t know was missing.

After much contemplation, it was decided. And the best part was, she didn’t need a man to have a baby — at least, she didn’t need a  _relationship_  with him. She didn’t even need to meet him! Her coworker had once mentioned that his sister had gotten artificial insemination from an anonymous sperm donor, which sounded simple enough to Emma. Ideal, even.

And she’d found the perfect donor, too…

~~~

Emma’s thoughts were interrupted by a rapping sound coming from her half-open window.

"Ma’am, your parking ticket’s expired. You need to buy another one or leave the lot."

"Oh, sorry, leaving now," she smiled.

On the drive back to her apartment, Emma daydreamed about her new baby. She was going to love the  _hell_  out of that kid.

She pictured herself and the little boy — or girl — taking over the world, just the two of them. A dynamic duo. Perhaps, dare she think it, a happily ever after?

 

 **CHAPTER 1**  

Six weeks after her pregnancy test turned up positive, Emma woke up one Saturday morning craving hot cocoa.

While most mornings Emma would feel too nauseous to eat or drink anything, this morning seemed strangely different.

As she sat on the edge of her bed and faced the full-length mirror leaning against her bedroom wall, she pulled up her top to examine her belly. If she turned her head to the side and squinted a bit, she thought she could make out a teeny tiny baby bump. Well, it was either a baby bump or the unfortunate result of binge-eating doughnuts (probably the latter, but she wouldn’t want to admit it).

Emma pulled on a sweater, not bothering to change out of her incredibly comfortable "jogging" pants that she basically wore all the time now. She honestly didn't mind what anyone else would think of her sloppy attire; it's not like she was trying to impress anyone or anything. It's the _diner_ , for goodness' sake.

Upon entering Granny's, her favourite spot for a quiet drink (before her pregnancy, this would include both the occasional inebriant as well as her favourite hot cocoa -- _always_ with a dash of cinnamon), she made her order at the counter and found an empty booth to slide into, sitting on the side facing the entryway. 

Besides her Bug, the diner was another place where Emma could easily get lost in her thoughts. Nowadays her daydreams were focused on her and her child’s future -- there was so much to prepare for, so many choices to make. She knew she had (approximately) nine months to figure it all out, but you could never be too prepared. Emma did _not_ want any big surprises, that was for sure.

A figure entering the bar jarred Emma back to the present. There was something about him that looked familiar, _so_ familiar, but she really couldn't put her finger on it. When he turned to order at the counter, Emma ran through her memories trying to figure out _who was this guy._

But then he turned to face her, his eyes blue and bright and piercing into hers, and she knew exactly who he was: #3784.

Or, to be more precise, the father of her unborn child.

~~~

Emma knew she had found _the_ _one_ when donor #3784's profile popped up on her screen. She was first taken aback by how handsome he looked in his picture-- _No one's eyes can be that blue_ , she thought to herself.

In all honesty, unbelievable good looks were not Emma's top priority. No, she wanted a donor who was intelligent, well-educated, healthy and kind. But she couldn't deny that #3784's charismatic smile sent a shiver down her spine.

She also had to admit her attraction to the rest of his profile. Born and raised in the UK but relocated to America six years ago, #3784 had a Marine Engineering degree at Plymouth, no serious medical concerns, and he seemed, well, pretty dang _charming_ in his written interview. He even fit some criteria that she didn't even realize she had wanted; for example, he was musically gifted (a pianist and singer).

So _sure_ , she'd have his baby. _Why not. Let's go for it._

~~~

Little did she know she'd one day be face-to-face with those _same_ blue eyes and that _same_ charismatic smile.

She looked away quickly, not wanting him to think that she was staring. He didn’t appear to notice; a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other, he went to grab a seat in opposite corner of the small diner.

Feeling comforted that he had decided not to assume anything of her ogling, she decided to go back to planning for the baby.

However, as hard as she tried, she could no longer focus on maternity leaves and nursery colours. Her gaze kept being drawn back to the man with the dark brown hair and gorgeous eyes, reading the paper, seemingly oblivious to her gaping.

It was purely out of interest in her future child, she insisted to herself. She’d peer over and study the way his jaw moved when he took a sip of coffee, the way he’d lick his bottom lip and furrow his brow when he seemed to be thinking deeply about what he was reading. Different from his donor profile picture, where he was clean-shaven, he had grown a short, scruffy beard.

After a while she decided that since she couldn’t stop watching him, she should _probably_ leave before he notices.

However, she was only steps outside of Granny’s when she heard a door open behind her.

“Miss! I do apologize if my exceptional handsomeness distracted you from your thoughts.”

_What the hell?_ But then she turned to see... him, grinning at her. _Oh_ _shit_. 

“Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you were--”

"Oh, yeah, I just thought I knew you from somewhere, never mind," she asserted before he could finish, turning away.

"Ah, that's quite all right. Not a worry.”

_Phew._ Emma was more than relieved to have survived this extraordinarily bizarre encounter with the man who just happened to be her baby’s father. She continued to walk in the direction of her apartment, figuring he had probably gone back inside once his curiosity was satisfied.

But he had not.

“Pardon me, again, miss, I just realized I needed to send a letter to my friend. Would you happen to know where the post office is?”

A familiar feeling of panic began to creep in under Emma’s skin. Her thoughts battled in effort to reconcile that _Yes, this is my baby’s father_ and _Jesus he is a complete stranger asking for directions_.

_I should probably just give him the directions and then lie about having left something at the diner, go back in and wait, and THEN walk home. And promptly forget that this entire thing happened._

She blinked a few times and responded, “Um, yeah, I do. I’m actually going in that direction, I’ll walk you there.”

_What the hell am I doing?! I thought I was going to go back to Granny’s!_

But she couldn't bring herself to. There was that _something_ about him, the _something_ that she had seen in his profile that was even more potent in person. Emma felt like she could trust him, and this feeling terrified her.

“Fantastic, thanks.”

Her heart pounding with apprehension, she added coolly, “But I’m only letting you walk with me because my apartment is just past there, so don’t get any ideas that I think you’re ‘exceptionally handsome’ or anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

They started walking side by side; Emma kept her arms crossed and avoided his gaze in an attempt to ward off small talk as she tried to calm her nerves. She should have known it’d be futile.

“Well, seeing as you _don’t_ know me from anywhere, I suppose I’ll introduce myself. Killian Jones.” He stopped walking and extended his hand.

She grabbed it and shook, feeling a squirm in her stomach when his eyes met hers. This twist in her abdomen reminded her of a certain fact that made her heart race even faster.

“Emma Swan.” Promptly she released her grip, placed her hand on her stomach -- then quickly to her hip -- and looked down.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan. Especially since you’re helping me out, and most certainly do not think I am exceptionally handsome.”

Emma shook her head, forced a smile, and carried on walking. Killian kept up with her slightly hastened pace.

“So, Miss Swan, how long have you lived in Boston?”

Realizing her arms were uncrossed, she folded them once more. “For as long as I can remember,” she replied.

“Do you like it here?”

Puzzled, Emma scrunched her face -- she’d never really thought about it before.

“I suppose... I mean, it’s home, I guess.”

“You don’t seem all that confident,” he joked.

“Honestly, I _have_ wanted to get away from here in the past. I guess I’ve just been too afraid to leave what’s familiar, leave the vague sense of home.”

_Wait a sec. Did I just confide in him? Am I forgetting that despite carrying his child I have known him for about five minutes? I swear to God if he’s a psycho stalker..._

“I know how you feel,” he murmured.

For the first time since shaking his hand, Emma looked at him.

“Really? I was sure you’d think I’m crazy.”

He met her gaze warmly.“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. In fact, I was once in a similar situation myself.”

They walked in silence for another few paces before he spoke again.

“When my Milah died, deep down I knew I needed a change of scenery. Staying where we had spent many years together did no good for me. But I resisted any thoughts of leaving, because even though staying had caused me great pain, it was familiar there; it was still my home.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Emma said softly, pulling a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Despite the insanity of the situation, she felt oddly at ease with Killian. She had confided in him, and he had returned the gesture. It was as if they had known each other forever.

_This has to be too good to be true._

Fortunately, before the anxiety could set in, they approached the post office.

Stopping and turning to face him, she announced, “Well, here it is.”

He smiled. “Thank you, m’lady.”

Emma waited for him to turn into the entryway, but he remained standing there, smiling at her.

“What?” she asked after a moment.

“Miss Swan, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

Emma was caught off guard. “Oh! Uh...”

_That would be the most ridiculous idea ever, having dinner with the man who is the father of my child... but, well, he wouldn’t have to know, would he?_

_But can I really afford to trust him?_

“I’m apologize for my forwardness, m’lady. I just sense--”

“Yes, sure,” she interrupted quickly.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes, I will have dinner with you,” she said, astonished to hear the words coming out of her mouth.

Killian grinned. “Great. Granny’s at 7?”

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

“Perfect.”

As he turned to enter the post office, Emma’s mind was racing with a single thought: _What on earth have I done???_

 


	2. Chapter 2

Shutting her apartment door behind her and leaning against it, Emma felt her heart pound heavily. She wiped her brow as she tried to slow her shaky, shallow breathing.

_It's just dinner. It's not serious._

But she knew it was more complicated than a shared meal between virtual strangers. He was the man she had picked to _father her child_. And, as far as she was aware, he had no idea.

What would happen if she told him? Would it freak him out? Would he run?

Would she care if he did?

And suddenly she felt as though a tight band was wrapped around her chest. Gasping for air, she pulled off her sweater and threw it on the ground before walking to the bathroom sink.

Splashing cold water on her face, her nerves calmed just enough for her to think coherently. Staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes wide and filled with panic, she knew what she needed to do: just cancel it.

Which was a promising idea... except it was quickly squashed by the fact that she didn’t have his phone number. _Damn._

Alternatively, she could just _not go_. She certainly didn’t owe him anything. But she couldn’t bring herself to stand him up, seeing visions of running into him at Granny’s and enduring the terrible awkwardness that would ensue.

It would be a short, cordial dinner, and that would be that. He was to remain uninformed, to walk away completely oblivious and perhaps remain a friendly acquaintance.

Emma decided she could do that.

As she got ready for her dinner with Killian (not a “date” -- she decided she would inform him of this early on so he didn’t get any big ideas), Emma appreciated that Granny’s called for more casual attire than a fancy restaurant or bar.

And so, rather than slipping on an uncomfortably tight dress and heels, she donned a dark blue blouse, black jeans (which were on the verge of being too small and made her realize wistfully that she may need an entire new wardrobe soon) and her favourite combat boots.

She had managed to soothe her anxiety regarding the outing to a reasonable extent, viewing it as an unexpected but welcome opportunity to get to know his background a little better -- even though it was too late to back out, she’d rather be more informed than not.

~~~

Emma didn’t immediately spot him as she entered the diner. She half-hoped _he’d_ stood her up; but, of course, he was there, settled in on the other side of the booth she had sat in this morning. She recognized his short, dark hair from behind.

As she approached him, he turned around, his face lighting up upon catching sight of her.

Her heart skipped a beat when Killian’s eyes met hers; she mentally scolded herself for it. _No. This is not going to be like that._

“Miss Swan,” he said, almost smirking -- perhaps he’d thought she would show him up.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile as she slid into the booth.

“You look quite lovely tonight, m’lady.”

_Quite the charmer_ , she mocked silently, wanting to roll her eyes but knowing that would be rude. She scanned his outfit, a pinstripe button-down shirt under a dark grey waistcoat, and thought fleetingly that he didn’t look too bad himself.

“Yeah, thanks,” she said quickly, then took a deep breath and stated, ”I just wanted to make it clear with you that I’m _not_ interested in dating, so... this isn’t a date.”

He nodded. “Not a date. Got it.”

“Good.”

The waitress, whom Emma recognized from her multiple solo trips to the diner (she was difficult to forget, considering her often bold choices of attire and the bright red streaks in her dark hair), then came to their table and flashed a smile.

“Hey guys, my name’s Ruby and I’ll be serving you tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked as she handed them each a menu.

Before Killian could request a bottle of wine from the list he was reviewing, Emma chimed in, “I’ll have a coke.”

He looked up, mildly startled, then quickly composed himself and added, “I’ll have the same.”

“Awesome, I’ll be right back,” Ruby said enthusiastically before turning to head back to the kitchen.

Killian scratched behind his ear ( _why_ did she find that so annoyingly endearing?) and began, “So, Miss Swan, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Do you find that to be an interesting job?”

“I actually like it a lot. I suppose I’m good at taking care of people.” Which was why she knew she’d be a good mother, she mentally added. 

After a quiet moment, during which the pair studied their menus, Killian mused, “I bet you make a great nurse. I need to catch myself an illness and get an appointment.”

“I’m a _hospital_ nurse,” Emma pointed out.

“Very well, then. Should I ever find myself hospitalized, I’ll request you,” he winked.

“I don’t know if you’ll get me, though,” she quipped, “I’m in pretty high demand.”

Keeping true to her word, Ruby returned soon with the drinks and collected their meal orders.

As they waited for their food, Emma asked Killian about his own job and how he decided to move to Boston, finding herself surprised at the number of tidbits that he shared that _hadn’t_ been on his sperm donor profile.

“You were _fired_?” Emma scoffed, suddenly worried that her child will have some sort of Bad Employee gene.

Killian chuckled, clearly amused by her disdain. “No, love, I wasn’t fired, just _let_ _go_. I was in a bad place, you see, after Milah had died. My boss knew I needed time to grieve.”

“So why didn’t you just take the time and go back, what made you leave the country?”

“Time wasn’t enough. I needed space, and lots of it.”

Emma nodded, admittedly feeling a small sense of admiration for Killian -- _he_ had taken the courage to leave his home to find a better place. While she knew she had given herself a reasonably fresh start by getting a job, an apartment and now starting a family, she still felt haunted by the past that had once taken place in this very city. Every so often she’d consider moving somewhere new to raise her child, but while the past weighed on her here, it also made her irrationally afraid to leave.

And then she noticed he had been smiling at her while her thoughts were wandering. Even more alarming was that she, too, smiled for a second when her eyes met his. It was a perfect moment, and the instant she realized as such she quickly straightened her face, looked down, and wished he would forget that it had ever happened.

“So, any family in Boston?” Killian asked after a moment, still grinning.

Her muscles tightened. “Nope. No family at all, actually.” _Barring the kid I’m having, but that’s a tiny detail._

“That must be lonely.”

“I don’t mind it, honestly. Being alone has never bothered me.”

“Really? Never?”

With seemingly perfect timing, their waitress then appeared with their entrées. Emma sincerely hoped he had let it go.

But once Ruby had had left, their food steaming in front of them...

“I can hardly believe that you _truly_ want to be alone,” he murmured, smiling slyly.

_Bite me_ , she wanted to yell in his face. While he was, in actuality, correct, she was _not_ about to cave in and tell him that. She’d have to explain the pregnancy thing and honestly she wasn’t in the mood for complicating things. “Yes, I am happy living the solo life. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

He leaned toward her and whispered, “I think that you have been hurt, and that is why you’re afraid to trust people enough to let them close to you.”

Her eyes widened. “ _Excuse_ me? Who gave you the right...?”

Killian moved back, palms facing her. “I’m sorry, love. That was out of line,” he apologized as Emma huffed and slid out of the booth.

“This was a mistake. I have to go.”

“I said I was sorry...”

She didn’t dare look into his eyes and see the remorse he felt, knowing it could have been well enough to make her rethink her decision to leave. It had been going so well up until that point, and of course he _had_ to go and ruin it. “Forget it. Bye.”

Emma stormed out of Granny’s, shaking her head. This was definitely the last not-date she’d ever go on.

Sighing and shivering as she walked quickly back home in the crisp evening weather, she realized she was going to have to find a new quiet place to hang out and think. _Dammit_.


	3. Chapter 3

If only she hadn’t left her cell phone in the booth. ****

She realized it was missing the second she stepped into her apartment, but not only was she was too worn out from her brisk walk to get there, she also did not want to face Killian again after having only _just_ walked out on their dinner. Briefly she considered just buying a new one -- her iPhone was a few generations old and had gotten frustratingly slow -- but she feared she’d miss a call from work before she could inform them of her new number. And so, much to her dismay, she knew the responsible thing to do was to go back to the diner and retrieve her decrepit phone.

Of course, that would have to wait until morning, because Emma had crashed within seconds of lying in bed.

~~~

The next morning, after having settled her stomach (damn that morning sickness -- even if it wasn’t as bad as her first pregnancy, it was still a nuisance from time to time), Emma solidified her plans to make one last trip to Granny’s to pick up her phone. She would be quick and inconspicuous.

_Especially_ quick, because she had a doctor’s appointment to get to.

She put on the darkest sunglasses she could find and placed a wool hat over her head in attempt to mask her identity. It felt ridiculous, but the idea of Killian being there and recognizing her was too much of a risk to her sanity. Anticipating the need for a speedy getaway, she grabbed the keys to her Bug and went down to the parking lot behind her apartment to climb in.

Fortunately, when she peeked in through the front windows of the diner, she couldn’t spot him. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked in, removed the “disguise” and went straight to yesterday’s table to find her phone.

It wasn’t there.

_No no no._ Dread coursing through her, she frantically checked both sides of the booth and, when that provided no luck, crawled on her knees beneath the table to see if the phone had ended up on the floor. Still not finding it, she wondered whether it had been returned to the restaurant staff.

Eagerly lifting her head to get up, she bonked it on the edge of the table. “Ow,” she grumbled.

And then she heard a familiar voice from behind her. “Alright, lass?”

_Dang it. Really?!_

Pulling (carefully, this time) out from under the table, she stood up and turned to glare at Killian, who was wearing his stupid grin and scratching his stupid ear.

_I must keep my cool. I must keep my cool._

“I’m fine. I left my phone here. Did you see it?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I noticed it after you had left, and so I gave it to Ruby to give to you should you come looking for it,” he nodded towards the bar where Ruby was pouring coffee.

“Oh. Well, I suppose I’ll go get it from Ruby then.”

“Very good, I was just coming to ask her if you had fetched it.”

“And I will do that now. So that’s all settled.”

“Brilliant.”

Could he stop smiling at her like an idiot? Like, honestly. He should be mad at her for fleeing mid-dinner. Despite her frustration, she had to stop the corners of her lips from twitching up.

“I don’t have time for this,” she mumbled as she walked straight past him to the bar. She reclaimed it from the enthusiastic waitress who was evidently pleased to see the pair back at her grandmother’s diner.

Grinning as she glanced back and forth at Emma and Killian (who was still standing a few feet behind her), Ruby crooned, “I’m so glad you guys made up, you make such a cute couple.”

“What? No, we’re not, we haven’t--” Emma stammered, her heart pounding.

“Miss Swan and I are not a couple, unfortunately,” he explained, winking.

Turning to gaze at Killian, she tensed. Regardless of the twist in her gut she experienced whenever she looked at him, or how carefree she felt when they got lost in exchanging their stories last night at dinner, or how she knew he somehow understood her better than anyone ever had (even though she could hardly admit it to herself), she was terrified of what would happen should she trust him and let him into her life. He knew nothing of her pregnancy, nothing of the child that he had fathered.

Soberly, she said, “I don’t think you could handle it,” shaking her head and exiting the diner once again, not checking to see Killian’s reaction.

Sliding into her Bug that was parked just out front, she felt a buzz in her pocket. _See, this is why I needed my phone back, it’s probably work calling me in._

Answering without checking the ID, she put the phone to her ear. “Emma Swan.”

“Miss Swan, if I could just--”

Choosing to ignore the dizziness she felt hearing his voice, she hissed, “How the hell did you get my number?”

“Used your phone to text myself. Clever, aren’t I?”

“You are not one to give up, are you.”

“If you want me to, I will leave you alone from now on. I promise.”

“Why is it that I don’t believe you?”

“You should believe me. I consider myself a man of my word.” 

“Then why are you calling me?”

“In case you _don’t_ want me to leave you alone.”

It would have been easy enough for Emma to say “Yes, _go_ _away_.” But, then, glancing out the passenger window, she saw him. He was standing inside Granny’s, near the front window, looking out at her. Her eyes traced the hopefulness painted in his features, her pulse accelerating as she mulled over how to handle this delicate situation.

Telling Killian to leave her be would mean her life would go back to normal, to a state that she knew she could manage. She was comfortable being in control, knowing she couldn’t be wounded the way she’d been in the past.

But that was _then_.

“Why didn’t you come out of the diner after me? You probably would have caught me.”

“Well, that was in case you do actually want me to leave you alone.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, then pulled the phone from her ear.

Cursing under her breath, she wondered: Would it be possible to let Killian in but not give him the power to hurt her? At least, not as deeply. Granted, she now had thicker skin than ever.

Once again facing the diner, she caught his gaze and motioned for him to come over.

He approached the window that she had rolled down to the right of her, then crouched down to lean his forehead on the top of the car above the window, half smiling.

“So what is it then, Miss Swan?” he asked, his expression sanguine.

“I’m pregnant.”

The reasoning behind her disclosure was twofold: First of all, if he found out and didn’t run, perhaps she just might be able to trust him. A little bit.

And secondly, if he somehow became a recurring part in her life, he would figure out as much eventually.

To Emma’s surprise, Killian snickered. ( _Why the hell is he laughing?!)_ “I knew I was exceptionally handsome, but I didn’t know I was _that_ exceptionally handsome.”

She wanted to yell that he was being ridiculous in assuming the child was his, but the fact was that he wasn’t wrong. _Oh God._

“You’re an idiot. I chose to get pregnant from an anonymous sperm donor.” _That is 100% the truth._

“I see. Interesting.”

“Uh huh,” she responded, her sarcasm loaded with frustration towards his casual response to the bomb she just dropped.

Killian quietly played with his fingers for a moment before asking, “Am I correct to assume that you calling me over here is for more than just telling me you are with child?”

She exhaled, looking into his eyes, searching for a hint of anything that would make her believe he didn’t actually want to be with her because that would just make her life so much simpler. But she couldn’t see a thing.

“Look. I’m not kidding when I say I’m having a kid. It may not look like it now but it sure as hell will soon. I’m just not in the kind of place right now where I can be in a relationship. Heck, when the baby comes, I’ll probably be in _less_ of a place for one.”

His smile showed his understanding, but his eyes his disappointment. “Miss Swan, I don’t wish to trouble you. I will go on my merry way and leave you be.”

She shook her head as he turned to leave. “No, wait. I mean,” she sighed before continuing, her voice shaking, “You don’t have to leave. It would be okay if, maybe... maybe, we were friends.”

Emma’s stomach squirmed as she took in his expression. _The smug bastard._ “Well, I think that would be brilliant, if we were friends.”

Him leaving was inevitable. He would leave her, just as everyone who had ever been close to her had. 

But at least, for now, she was at ease knowing that being _just friends_ could spare her some of the suffering when he did.


	4. Chapter 4

“So you’ve forgiven me for last night, then?”

Killian’s eyes smoldered at Emma as she considered how to respond. His comments at dinner had hit a tender nerve; no one had ever called her out on her reluctance to trust others before. She had always kept to herself, and it never seemed to bother anyone.

As to why it irked _him_ , well, she had a guess. The guy couldn’t stop smiling at her.

The best part was that his smile, so bright and genuine, could so easily make her forget the outlandish complication that he was unknowingly her baby’s father, and how imprudent it was for her to hide such a fact from him.

“Well, you weren’t entirely wrong,” she shared, her lips twitching up slightly. “I may have... overreacted.”

“You _may_ have--?” he asked incredulously.

“Don’t push it. And I actually have to be somewhere,” she added, to change the subject quickly. She had almost forgotten about that appointment, the first one since her visit to the fertility clinic. “So, um, see you ‘round.”

“I look forward to it.”

Emma turned her key in the ignition, grimacing when the car didn’t start.

She tried again, but her efforts were of no use: the damned thing had broken down.

“Really? _Really?_ ” She put her hands to her forehead in frustration.

Killian, who had remained standing near the car, chuckled at her irritation. “Would you like me to phone a tow truck for you, love?”

“No-- I mean, I can call-- I mean, I don’t have time to _wait_ for a tow truck. I have a doctor’s appointment in, like, ten minutes.”

“I could give you a ride, then. Friends _do_ do favours for other friends, right?” he winked.

“Yeah, I guess, but--”

“No ‘buts’. I’m going to give you a ride, so you’re not late to see the doctor.”

“Fine,” she huffed as she opened the door to exit the car. Yes, she was grateful for his offer (her mind had been filled with worries late at night about the health of her baby, and she hoped to be relieved of those worries soon because -- if not for her sake, for the kid’s -- she _really_ needed sleep), but she didn’t want her appreciation of his generosity to get to his head. He was already unreasonably gleeful after that friendship proposal.

~~~

“Okay. The tow truck is on its way to Granny’s, I can walk to the service centre after my appointment to pick up the Bug.”

Parked in front of the doctor’s office, they sat in the car listening to the pitter-patter of the rain that had just begun.

“That’s absurd,” he gestured to the outside weather, “I will wait for your appointment to finish and drive you there.”

_Would he, honestly? He’ll probably get a call and have to leave anyway. Better to not be disappointed._

She shook her head. “It’s not raining _that_ bad. And I’m sure you have places to be, too.”

“I do have to stop somewhere this afternoon, yes. But that can wait. It’s no problem, Emma.”

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him say her name for the first time, realizing that she had always been “Miss Swan” before.

“Okay,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering, her pulse erratic. Why the hell is hearing her own name having such an effect on her?

It wasn’t only that, she realized as he looked at her warmly. She had forgotten how good it felt to be put first by someone. With that, her hesitation had faltered, if only slightly.

“I have to go in now,” she murmured after a moment.

“I’ll come with you.” To her bewildered expression, he responded, “What? I like the magazines these places have.”

~~~

Emma approached the reception window, while Killian went up to peruse the magazines stacked on the table beside her.

“Emma Swan, here for an appointment with Dr. Whale.”

A voice came from across the room. “You can come on in, Emma.”

“Great.” She turned to head to the open door where Dr. Whale was standing, then glanced back at Killian who was flipping through a business magazine.

He caught her gaze and nodded. “I’ll be here.”

The sincerity in his voice was nearly too much for Emma to bear.

Dr. Whale looked at Killian. “Oh, the baby’s father is welcome to come in, too.”

Emma felt the blood rush from her face. She hadn’t lied to Killian yet, at least not explicitly. But, still dead set on never telling him the actual truth, she had no other option.

Fortunately, before she could say anything, she was reprieved by the man in question. “Nope, not the father. Just the ride.”

Exhaling slowly, she continued walking across the reception area to her doctor’s office.

_Well_ that _was a narrow escape._

~~~

“Everything all right with the wee one, then?” Killian asked as he and Emma walked out of the clinic.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Thank you, for waiting.”

“Not at all,” he responded, pressing a button to unlock his car. “I read a very interesting article about a cheese factory in Wisconsin...” He continued as the pair entered his car and drove off.

Interrupting his blathering about the magazine article was a ringtone Emma didn’t recognize. Killian pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to her. “Could you just read me that email, Emma?” (Could he _stop_ saying her name?  It was going to drive her insane, and she could _not_ afford to let her guard down.) “I’m waiting to hear from the friends I’m meeting today, and I don’t want to get into a car crash and have my good looks ruined.”

She scoffed, then felt her own phone buzz in her pocket. “Just a sec, I have to answer this.”

“ _Fine_ , then,” he said with teasing anger.

She rolled her eyes at Killian, then answered the call. “Emma Swan... So is it ready?... You’re kidding me... Oh, I’m sorry to hear that... Yeah, I can pick it up tomorrow...Thanks.” She hung up and pushed the phone back in her pants’ pocket.

“Car still broken?” Killian guessed. During Emma’s call he had pulled up the email and read it despite his accident-related worry.

She sighed, her eyes filled with frustration. “Yep. Apparently the guy working at the service centre -- they only have one there on Sunday’s, of _course_ \-- had a family emergency and doesn’t have the time to fix the Bug today.”

“ _Really_? How convenient for him, probably just wants the time off.”

“Probably. Although I consider myself to have a pretty good sense of when someone is lying, and I think he was telling the truth.”

“Well, well, aren’t _you_ the show-off.” She grinned at his comment. “In any case, I’ll be dropping you home now. Gotta run over now to my mate Robin’s place. I’m helping him move to a new flat.”

Emma nodded as he turned onto the street where the post office was located. “So, I know you live around here somewhere...?” he probed.

“Yeah, just around the corner here, second apartment building on the right.”

After he pulled in front of her home and stopped the car, Emma turned to Killian. “Thank you. For the ride.”

“It was my pleasure. That’s what friends are for!” She watched his eyes sparkle as he laughed quietly.

“Well, I guess you’d better get going. Don’t keep Robin waiting.”

“I would go, but you’re still in the car.”

“Right. Bye.”

As she exited Killian’s car and walked up the stairs to the front door, feeling grateful that it was only spitting rain, she had to shake the thoughts that came rushing to her head. There was no sense to these thoughts, thoughts that said perhaps she felt more for Killian than she would a friend.

She chided herself for letting Killian and his charm and his unwavering kindness under her skin. It was plainly stupid -- she was carrying his _child_.

But was it really _that_ stupid?

She did, after all, agree to be friends despite her secret. And that hadn’t gone too poorly, save for the close call at the doctor’s office.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , could she manage more?

Feeling her muscles tighten and her pulse quicken in response to that thought, she knew exactly what the answer to that was: _Hell no._

That, however, didn’t mean she couldn’t stay _friends_ with him.

Yes, that would have to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma woke up the next morning to a text from Killian:  _Still without a car, Miss Swan?_

“Of course I am,” she replied out loud, annoyed (but only a little) at his question that begged an obvious answer.

Yes, she was still without a car -- it wasn’t going to be ready until the end of the day. What’s worse was that she had to go to work that day (boy, was she ever looking forward to mat leave).

_Why didn’t I rent an apartment within walking distance to the hospital?_ she asked herself furiously, trying to decide how to answer Killian’s text.

Does she tell him she needs his help again, despite the fact that the idea of asking anyone for help makes her grind her teeth in irritation?

As she reminded herself that taxis, while expensive, are always an option, she opened the curtains to her bedroom window to let the sunlight in and saw a car parked in front that seemed awfully familiar, and an even more familiar figure standing in front of it, looking down at his shoes.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” she muttered, placing a hand on her belly in attempt to quell the butterflies.

_I see you,_ she typed before rushing to prepare herself for work. _Down in a minute._

~~~

“I figured you could use another ride today,” Killian winked at Emma as she approached him. He was dressed in a black suit and grey tie, which looked pretty damn good on him if Emma was being honest (and of course, this friendship was _not_ built on honesty, so she wouldn’t say a word).

“I suppose I could, but _this_ was unnecessary,” she frowned, adjusting her bag strap over her shoulder.

“No, actually, it _was_ necessary,” he retorted as he moved to open the passenger door, but Emma beat him to it. “I couldn’t leave you to take one of those bloody cabs, and I have a meeting this morning so I hoped you would be coincidentally ready to leave when I got here.”

“Wow, selfish and selfless at the same time. How _do_ you do it?” she teased, allowing herself to grin a little.

“It’s a gift, I think.” Emma rolled her eyes at his response as she entered the car and shut the door in front of him.

~~~

After checking up on her last patient of the day, Emma walked out to the reception area to see Killian chatting with Marian, one of the secretaries.

Emma liked Marian ever since she met her several years ago. Marian was pregnant and needed a job, and, empathizing with her situation, Emma told her about the opening at the hospital.

While Marian was the closest thing Emma had to a friend at work, she never saw her outside of the 9-to-5 grind; in fact, she didn’t really know much about her personal life at all, aside from having been shown a few pictures of her son, who was now seven years old.

Spotting her, Killian grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“I told you to wait by the car,” she said, attempting a stony expression but having a hard time not being pleased by his presence. This time she was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave her hanging, but you never know with people.

However, she realized, with Killian, knowing was actually easier than she’d expected.

“Nah, I wanted to come see where you work.”

“Killian was just telling me how he’s been chauffeuring you around the past couple of days,” Marian smirked.

“Only because my car is in repair. I won’t be needing any more chauffeuring after tonight.”

“It’s a shame, though -- she’s been fun to drive around.”

Marian looked at Emma, then at Killian, then back to her as if to ask _Is there anything going on between you two?_

Emma shook her head subtly at Marian, then turned to Killian. “Okay, I’m going to go get my stuff, you can head down and I’ll meet you at the car.”

“As you wish,” he said, waving at Marian as he went down the hallway to the elevators.

Once he was out of sight, Marian raised her eyebrows at Emma.

She knew what her friend was thinking. “There is _nothing_ going on between us. We’re just friends.”

“ _Sure_ ,” Marian responded sardonically. And then she was serious. “Be careful, Emma. You might think that being friends is enough, but I’m telling you from experience that he won’t be waiting forever, and he might have moved on before you realize just how good things were.”

Emma looked down, biting her lip. Marian _did_ have a point.

“So that happened to you?” she inquired, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Yeah. He was my best friend... with benefits. We were in love, but too foolish to admit it to ourselves. Then I had to move out of town to help my mother, who was sick, and we got out of touch. I didn’t know it at the time but I was pregnant with his child... so I planned to find him and get together for real, and now I find out he’s been living in Boston all this time, and I go find him... and he’s _moved_ _in_ with someone... he has a new family now.” Her voice broke at the end, tears forming in her eyes.

Emma sighed. “That sucks. But now you know he’s moved on, so maybe you can finally move on too?”

“If only it were that easy,” Marian smiled, wiping a tear.

“Oh, I’ve been through heartbreak. I _do_ know that it’s hard. And I just... don’t want it to happen again.”

Marian sniffed, her eyes hopeful. “It doesn’t have to, for you.”

Emma shrugged, then went to the staff lounge to get her bag.

_Maybe it doesn’t_ , she thought to herself afterwards, pressing the button to the elevator. _But there are no guarantees._

~~

When she emerged from the hospital, Killian was waiting for her behind his car in the parking lot.

“All right, time to go get my car. I called the repair guy on my way down and he said it was ready for me to pick up anytime this evening.”

“Wonderful.” Although he didn’t seem wonderful, which was a bit unsettling to Emma.

“How did your meeting go today?” she asked, changing the topic.

“Quite well, actually. We have a new business partnership which will be very lucrative. But really, I enjoy any excuse to design boat parts.”

“Sounds like you picked the right career then.”

“I believe I did.”

As he looked warmly into her eyes, as he always did, Emma thought about what Marian had said about losing someone after it’s too late.

Marian didn’t know she was pregnant with her best friend’s child. Emma _knows_ she’s pregnant with her friend-whom-she-met-two-days-ago’s child. These were two _very_ different situations.

Killian interrupted her thoughts. “I saw a woman, in the hospital, who had just given birth to her baby. I heard her telling her family that the labor was excruciating, and they told her to rest up because she wasn’t going to sleep at all for probably a year.”

_What on earth was he saying this for? Did he think she didn’t know this already?_ Flustered, she shouted, “Are you telling me I made a _mistake_ , getting pregnant?”

“No, no! Not at all.” He inhaled, scratching behind his ear, “I wanted to say, love, that I think you’re incredibly brave.”

And suddenly she was overcome by an urge to move closer to him. Closer and closer she moved, and her thoughts were swirling violently but she ignored them. She ignored the fear because it would not leave, it was inevitable but she could at least brush it aside for a little while...

At last, tugging his tie, she pulled him in and pressed her lips to his. He placed his hand on the nape of her neck, and she kissed him, forcefully and passionately, for a brief moment of near-bliss.

But it was not long before the certain panic washed over her and it felt as though someone had removed her ability to breathe. She pushed him away and exhaled labouriously, unable to look him in the eyes. He eased from her, studying her pained expression.

“Are you alright, Emma?” he asked, his eyes worried.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” she muttered, breathing heavily.

“I thought we seemed to be veering away from that, anyhow,” he said, half-jokingly, unsure of how to handle Emma’s sudden change of mood.

“I’m being serious.”

He approached her, his expression turned somber. “All right. If that’s what you wish. My offer from yesterday morning still holds true -- if you want me to leave you alone, I will oblige. But if you want me to be your friend, or whatever it is I am to you, say the word and I am yours.”

“But that’s just it -- you hardly know me, how can you make such lofty promises?”

“You hardly know _me_ , how can you know that I’m not worth trusting?”

“I think it’s better to assume people are untrustworthy rather than be disappointed.”

“Not everyone is like the man who hurt you, Emma.”

“It wasn’t just a man! My _parents_ abandoned me and I had to grow up in the foster system. Then I was placed with a family, but they didn’t want me either so they gave me back. And _then_ I met someone who made me feel loved and wanted like I’d _never_ been before, and then without a single warning, _he abandoned me too_.”

“I can only imagine how painful that must have been.”

“And that’s not even the worst part!” she continued, shaking with anger, unable to even absorb Killian’s reaction, “This isn’t my first pregnancy! _I was pregnant when he left me!_ ”

As she spoke, Emma’s world was spinning around her. Feeling a rush to her head, she rubbed her forehead and swayed a bit, Killian catching her before she could collapse.

“Come on love, you need to sit down for a bit.” Rather than protesting, Emma nodded slightly and allowed him to lead her gently to the passenger seat of his car.

Killian soon entered the driver’s side and sat beside her.

“So you have another child, then?” he inquired quietly after giving Emma a moment to collect herself.

She smiled meagerly. “Technically, yes. But -- ironically enough -- I gave him up for adoption. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I could love him, but my life was such a mess and I wanted him to have his best chance to be happy. I didn’t think that could be with me.”

“That was very honourable of you.”

“I guess,” she mumbled, flashes of the harrowing day she gave away her son appearing in her thoughts. Retrospectively, she wasn’t sure if it was honourable or just plain selfish. “So, now you know how messed up I am. I am going to go take that cab now.”

“Emma, love, nothing I said before has changed.”

“Words! That’s all it is!”

“It’s not just words!”

“Well then what is it then?”

She regretted asking that to Killian immediately after having done so, dreading to hear his response. But his expression, filled with tenderness and concern, said it all.

“Emma,” he spoke softly, “I want to prove to you that some people are worth trusting.”

Sure, he’d been nothing but trustworthy over the past few days. Trustworthy and understanding and caring.

And that would be enough for them to be friends. However, despite being decidedly just friends, there was an inescapable magnetism between them that simply couldn’t be ignored.

There was the way she felt around him, when she heard him say her name, when he looked into her eyes, when they kissed.

But if she were to trust him, to let him in, there would always be the lingering fact that she was carrying his child. And she _just_ _couldn’t_ tell him that. She couldn’t bear him finding out, because there was simply no way to know how he would react... It’s just not the kind of thing a person ever expects to hear.

So there would be no change regarding her decision to keep the secret. She’ll just forget about it, and he won’t ever know.

“Okay,” she finally whispered. But she wasn’t sure if Killian had heard her as his worried stare was now fixated on a figure approaching them.

“ _Robin_?”


	6. Chapter 6

“Robin?” Killian called out again as Emma shifted to see a man with messy golden blond hair walking through the hospital parking lot in their general direction. “Is everything okay?”

“Hey mate, wasn’t expecting to see you here,” the man said distractedly, his eyes darting around as though he was searching for something, or someone. “I need to find--”

“Robin?” Emma heard a familiar voice coming from behind her. Turning her head she saw Marian, standing wide-eyed and frozen just past the revolving door entrance.

The man, who had stopped in his tracks, spoke with fervor. “Oh, Marian.”

Emma couldn’t help but feel that she was intruding on a personal moment between her coworker and Killian’s friend. Was _this_ the guy Marian was telling her about just moments before?

“I think we should get going, to pick up my car,”Emma said to Killian, who had been watching Robin run to Marian and then embrace her firmly.

“Hm, yes. I suppose I can catch up with him later,” he mused as he went to open the car door, all the while still observing the couple with concern. 

Emma was admittedly curious as well. As she and Killian pulled out of the parking lot in his car, she peered out the window to watch them hugging and talking and she quickly recognized two lovers that had been separated for far too long.

The memory of Marian telling her that Robin had moved in with another woman suddenly appeared in her thoughts, and Emma wondered how much that would complicate this happy reunion. But she tried not to linger on the idea for long-- she just hoped things would work out for Marian.

_No one deserves a broken heart._

~~~

The reunion of Marian and Robin seemed to have distracted Killian from the discussion he and Emma had been having just before. Emma glanced at him occasionally as they drove silently to the mechanic, but his gaze was focused on the road ahead of them.

After a while, Emma asked, “That was your friend, right? The friend you helped move to his apartment yesterday?”

“Aye, that was Robin.”

“I know her... Marian, she works at the hospital.”

“Ah, I see.”

Emma frowned at his uncharacteristic lack of chattiness. “Is something wrong?”

Killian scrunched his face as he thought of how to respond. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”

“You know, you can tell me what’s going on.”

“I know, love. I will. You have my word. Just later, after I talk to Robin.”

“Fine,” she replied, her frustration with Killian made obvious by her tone.

A few minutes later, after parking the car at the service centre, Killian turned his head to Emma. “Before we were rudely interrupted, you had said, ‘Okay’. What do you mean by that, exactly?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raised.

She looked down, feeling warmth creeping in her cheeks. “Well, I guess I’m open to you... proving yourself trustworthy. To me.”

She then crossed her arm over her stomach, feeling the instinct to protect the child she was carrying from the unknown repercussions of what she had just agreed to.

Killian’s face brightened, the tension from earlier completely eased. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

Part of Emma was saying that he’s just making another meaningless promise, just like Neal, and that letting him in was a mistake. But another part of her was saying that perhaps this voice was holding her back from exploring something that could be worthwhile.

“I’d better not,” she smiled.

After Emma went inside to retrieve her keys, she returned to his car to say goodbye.

The window rolled down, Killian grinned and she couldn’t help but feel a little buzz within -- it was almost a sense of relief, that maybe he didn’t have to leave her life, that maybe she could handle getting to know him better, that maybe they didn’t need to be defined within the safety of the limits of friendship.

It was scary as hell. But also incredibly exciting.

“So, when can I see you again, Miss Swan?”

Normally, on the rare occasions that she’d go on a date over the past ten years, she’d simply respond by saying she’d give the guy a call sometime (and then incidentally ‘forget’ to do so). This time, her gut was saying that she should take a different approach. “I’m free Friday night.”

“All right, then, m’lady. I will pick you up Friday evening for our...” He raised his eyebrows, hoping Emma would finish the sentence.

She obliged, shaking her head at his silliness. “Date. Okay? It’s a _date_ , this time.”

Killian chuckled, evidently pleased.

“Bye, Killian.”

“Goodbye, Emma.”

~~~

The thrill of having agreed to go out with Killian rushed through Emma’s veins throughout the days leading into their date. During her days at work she’d find him appearing in her thoughts; she’d imagine his brilliant, wide grin and vivid blue eyes and feel a shiver down her spine.

With the thrill came the fear, the fear that she was making a mistake, the fear that she couldn’t trust him even though, deep inside her, she knew she could. There was still that _something_ she sensed in him when they first met, the _something_ she couldn’t put a finger on.

However, because she couldn’t place this feeling she had, she worried it was all just an illusion, and she might suddenly wake from this strange dream shaking and screaming, just like she had done in the foster home all those years ago whenever she’d had a bad nightmare.

And so there were a few times that she’d pick up her cell phone, find his number in her contacts and consider pressing the ‘call’ button. She’d think of calling and saying that maybe she wouldn’t go out with him after all, maybe he should leave her be, just like he said he would if she requested as such.

One time, in a particularly flustered moment, she actually did call him.

“Killian Jones.”

“Hey, Killian, it’s Emma,” she said, her voice tight.

“Miss Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he responded, and she could practically _hear_ his smile.

“Um, about Friday--” she began.

“Oh, yes!” he interjected, “I meant to call you about that.” _To cancel?_ Emma wondered to herself. He continued, “I’ll pick you up at seven, does that sound good?”

“That would be great,” she found herself saying before she could prevent it.

“Perfect.”

“...Yeah,” she sighed.

“All right, Emma?”

“Yeah, no. I am great. See you Friday.”

“See you Friday. Oh, and Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“I look forward to seeing you again.”

In the moments after hanging up, Emma slowly realized that maybe she knew what that _something_ was, after all.

~~~

For their first real date, Killian drove Emma to a small jazz club a short drive from her apartment.

“One of my favourite hidden gems in Boston,” he said, opening the door to the unassuming dinner location he had chosen. He had gestured her down a dark, narrow street that Emma had never before ventured; she’d been a bit worried he’d lead her to her untimely demise. But then again, this whole thing _was_ an exercise in trust.

The tiny venue had only a handful of tables on the lower floor, each lit by a single candle, that filled the space all the way to the back of the room, where there was a narrow stage lifted just a foot above the floor; the evening’s act had not yet started, but a few musicians were setting up their instruments. There was also a bar along the wall to the left of the stage. The hostess offered to bring the pair upstairs where there would be more seating, but Killian insisted the best seats were those closest to the performers.

And so, he and Emma ate their dinner in the dim lighting, listening to the loud and lively musicians that filled every corner of the room with swinging jazz. Emma couldn’t help but laugh as she watched Killian sway to the catchy beats and hum along with the soaring melodies.  Not that dancing was her thing, but his enthusiasm for the music, which admittedly she quite enjoyed herself, was nearly enough to make her wish there was more space in this club for them to get up and dance.

As they clapped at the end of the act, watching the musicians take their bows, Emma felt a twinge of sadness that the performance was over. The music had made her feel temporarily free of her worries; she simply delighted in the sounds and the presence of her date, who would every so often turn his head to catch her gaze and smile as they watched the concert. It helped that the music was so loud that they didn’t need to talk much, aside from during a few set breaks when the musicians would grab a beer and chat with the audience.

“Hey, Killian!” the spunky blonde bass player said as she approached their table during one of the breaks.

“Tink! Good to see you. Great show so far.”“Yeah, it’s been a while. Thank you!” Her wide smile at Killian made Emma feel a little unsettled.

“This is Emma,” he said, gesturing to her. “Emma, this is my friend Tink, short for Tinker Bell.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Like the Peter Pan fairy?”

Tink laughed. “It’s my stage name. My actual name is Audrey Greenwing, but nobody calls me that.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway, I’m heading to the bar, could I grab you guys some beers?” Tink had asked them both, but her gaze was set upon Killian.

Killian gave a knowing look to Emma, who answered gently, “I think we’re good with our cokes, but thanks anyway.”

“Okay, cool,” Tink shrugged. “Hope you like the rest of the set!”

After Tink disappeared, having given another not-so-subtle glance at Killian, Emma leaned toward him and said, “Sorry. You don’t have to stay sober just ‘cause I do.”

He chuckled quietly. “No worries, love. It’s better for me anyhow; I want to be on my best behaviour, and alcohol tends to make me forget that.”

She smiled. “I think one beer would be okay.”

“Hm, perhaps,” he winked. “Another time.”

Emma couldn’t help but think that he was just humoring her. And the way that Tink had been looking at him? No doubt there was once more between them than friendship. Of course she couldn’t blame him for keeping secrets, and certainly hers was the biggest of them all.

~~~

“I had a great time, Killian,” Emma said at the foot of the stairs leading up to her apartment building’s entrance.

“I picked a good spot, then? A bit nicer than Granny’s, although I have to say her lasagna is rather sublime.”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, the music was great. Your friend, Tinker Bell--” she stifled a snort before continuing, “She seemed pretty nice.”

“Is the lady Swan _jealous_?” he sneered, clearly hoping she was. But honestly, it hadn’t bothered her at all, and she was more irritated than anything else that he’d tried to provoke her.

“Oh, _please_. I just sensed a vibe.”

“Very well.” He leaned back, defeated, for now. “We’ll have to go back, I think. On a night where I’m playing.”

Her memory of #3784‘s profile suddenly flashed in her mind. _Right, he’s a pianist!_  

“Oh yeah, I remember reading that--” she stopped herself before saying something she’d regret, instead finishing, “--on, um, the performers list, somewhere, at the restaurant.”

Hoping that there was in fact such a list (Who knows?) and dreading his suspicion, Emma’s heart beat faster and faster as she watched him raise his eyebrow.

But then he grinned, confusion erased from his features. “Yeah, I’m on next month. I mean, I don’t intend to be hasty.”

Emma turned her head to the side, smiling and inhaling deeply, prolonging his wait for her answer partly because she wasn’t sure of it -- not sure if she wanted to commit to something so concrete. Sure, she’d indulge him in this trust endeavor, but backing out wouldn’t be as easy if she promised him this date a month from now.

So she simply placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“So is that a yes, then?”

“We’ll see,” she smiled.

~~~

Back in her apartment after waving Killian goodbye, Emma felt a rush of tingly excitement. _This thing is going pretty dang well so far,_ she told herself. She hadn’t invited him inside, not because she didn’t want to but because she liked feeling as though she could control the pace of this blossoming relationship. One that made her feel like maybe this wasn’t going to be like those nightmares she had as a child because it felt so much more like a _good_ dream.

Fighting the urge to pour herself a glass of wine (would one glass really hurt?), she walked straight past her kitchen into her room and shut the door behind her.

Control. Yes, that was what kept her from falling into pieces, what kept the fear from eating her alive. She decided they would be friends, and now she decided they would be more than that. As long as she was in control, she could protect herself from getting hurt.

But she couldn’t help but wish he was in there with her, feeling the taste of his lips lingering on hers, making the room spin around her. He would place his hand on her back, gripping her, pulling her towards the bed. And maybe she wouldn’t stop him.

Tonight, he was gone. But there would be a next time.

And she would make sure of it.


	7. Chapter 7

“Morning, Marian,” Emma said as she approached the front desk at work the next Monday morning. She had been itching to find out why Killian had acted so strange after seeing his friend and Marian embrace, and she hoped her coworker would indulge her curiosity.

After exchanging the usual “How was your weekend?” formalities, Emma cut right to the chase.

“So, I couldn’t help but see you and Killian’s friend the other day...”

Marian looked down and blushed, smiling. “Yeah, Robin.”

“That was the guy, right? The one you had told me about?”

“That’s the one. I knew he was coming to the hospital, after we’d talked on the phone... he had called me right after you left, totally out of the blue, said he needed to see me...” She drifted off and Emma assumed she was remembering the phone call that probably turned her life upside-down.

After a moment she asked, “So, are you back together, then?”

Marian sighed, and Emma suddenly felt like maybe she had asked too personal of a question. But her friend responded, “Yeah, I think so. I mean, not that we were ever really _together_ in the first place. But he said he wants to be a part of Roland’s life, and mine...”

“That sounds pretty good,” Emma said, “But are you sure you believe him?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I trust him more than anyone.”

“I mean, he just came out of nowhere and said he wants to be in your life after all these years apart?”

“Yes, Emma, it was a total surprise. But, this past week that I’ve been with Robin, I’ve been happier than ever. Roland can finally have a father figure. And I never, ever stopped loving him.”

The way Marian had spoken, Emma got a strong sense that she really _was_ happy to be back with Robin.

And that was what she told Killian over the phone as she made dinner back at her apartment.

“Nothing seems wrong to me,” Emma continued, cradling the phone to her hear as she stirred a pot of pasta. “She seems thrilled. And I know liars when I see them. So what were you so worried about?”

She grimaced when she heard Killian exhale heavily. “Well, there’s more to the story than just Marian’s perspective, love.”

“I’m sure there is,” Emma said, placing the phone on the counter and turning it on speakerphone.

She carried the pot to the sink and dumped the boiled pasta into a colander, listening as Killian went on. “Them being together might _look_ like a good thing, but I fear it’s not. I know Robin, I have since we were young lads. And when Marian took off, it devastated him.”

“She didn’t have a _choice_ ,” Emma argued, carrying the colander to the counter and pouring some of the pasta into a bowl. “She had to help her sick mother!”

“While that may be true, Robin was still left without his love. And, much like myself when I lost Milah, he didn’t take to it very well.”

“So what’s your point? She’s back now, why can’t things go back to the way they were?”

“Well, in the meantime, Robin found a new love.”

“Huh... Wait a second,” Emma scrunched her face in confusion as bits and pieces of details she had learned about Robin popped into her head. “ _Marian_ told me that her guy had moved in with someone else. And _you_ just helped Robin move to a new apartment. So is he now living with another woman?” She gasped and added, “Is he two-timing Marian?”

“No, no, no,” Killian responded quickly, “He _was_ with another woman, Regina. Then Regina kicked him out.”

“Wait, why?” Robin’s story was so confusing, and she was so engrossed in it, that at this point Emma had entirely forgotten about her half-prepared dinner.

“Robin found out -- I have no clue how, probably Facebook, for all I know -- that Marian had relocated to Boston, and had a seven-year-old son. He must have put two and two together and figured out that the boy was his.”

“So why did he get kicked out?”

“He told Regina that he was considering reconnecting with Marian and seeing whether he could be involved in his son’s life. Honesty is good form, right? But Regina sensed that he might still have feelings for his old flame, and she pushed him hard enough that he admitted it right out loud to her.”

“Yikes.”

“Yes, it was an awful sight, from what he told me. It was then that she told him to leave. She didn’t want to be with someone who, even in part, wants to be with someone else.”

“Wow,” was all Emma could utter in response.

“It isn’t really that surprising, coming from Regina. I don’t know her too well, but I do know that she can be a bit... intense.”

“No kidding.” Her stomach then grumbled, reminding her of the bowl of pasta that was eventually going to get cold. But she had a feeling that Killian wasn’t finished. “I don’t get it though, why does Robin and Marian being together make you so concerned?”

“Well, as I said, Robin was a mess after Marian left. He never thought that he’d get over her, that he’d move on. But he did. What he had with Regina was... idyllic. When I saw them together, I could tell that they were a perfect match.”

“A better match than he and Marian?” She seemed to remember quite the chemistry when they reunited a week ago.

“Yes, if you can believe it. They’ve only known each other for a year, but it was one hell of a good year.”

“Wow,” she said again. There was nearly too much information to digest on an empty stomach. Finally she scooped some marinara sauce onto her pasta and grabbed a fork, then brought her bowl and phone to her kitchen table.

As she ate, Killian continued, “My point is that, and I do apologize for taking so long to get here, in my humble opinion, it’s not worth it for Robin to lose what he has with Regina over the possibility of rekindling with Marian.”

Emma understood. “And if it doesn’t work out with Marian, Robin won’t have Regina to go back to. But what about his son with Marian? Don’t you think it’s worth it, for their family to be together?”

Killian sighed. “It’s a tough one, I’ll admit. But I think if he were to perhaps reignite just the _friendship_ with Marian, he could still be a part of his son’s life.”

“I suppose that’s true. But he obviously still has feelings for Marian. And Regina’s kicked him out. Maybe he and this Regina aren’t as perfect together as you think?”

“Maybe you’re right, love. Who knows. But there’s also another thing.”

“ _Another_ thing? How on earth could this get more complicated?”

“There’s another _person_ , actually. One who is in the middle of all this drama with Regina and Robin, who might be more affected by it than Regina would like to admit.”

“Who?”

“Regina’s son. I think his name is Henry.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Three Months Later._

“Ready to go, sleepyhead?”

Emma peeked into Killian’s bedroom, spotting him rubbing his eyes before going back to rummaging through a drawer.

“I can’t find a bloody match for this sock,” he yawned.

Emma grinned, leaning against the doorway. “We’re going to Granny’s, Killian. They don’t really care if your socks match there.”

He frowned and grabbed one black and one grey sock, huffing in disappointment as he sat on the edge of his bed and slipped each sock on. “Remind me again why I agreed to an _early_ breakfast at the diner with you this morning?”

“Because I’m going to a maternity class right after, remember? And we always do Granny’s on Saturdays.”

Standing up, Killian stretched and yawned loudly. “Well, perhaps we go tomorrow? Make it a new tradition, for Sundays?”

She knew what he was trying to do, and shot him a look. “Nope. And besides, what would we eat instead? You never have any food, and I just ran out of eggs.”

“Excuse _me_ for being too busy to go grocery shopping. What with the new client who is more demanding than I’ve ever seen -- and trust me, I’ve encountered many a choosy client -- I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my time doing more... _pleasurable_ activities than purchasing food.” He smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm, let me guess. I’ve been involved in those activities, haven’t I?”

“Well aren’t you a clever one,” Killian winked, walking towards Emma, his hands outstretched. “And just ravishing, too.”

She grabbed onto his hands, feeling his warmth in her palms, pulling him in as close as she could without her twenty-weeks-pregnant belly getting in the way. “Well you’re not so bad, yourself,” she murmured before she kissed him tenderly.

He groaned when she pulled away. “Please, love. Can’t we go back to bed?”

“Absolutely not. This baby needs food,” she let go of one of his hands and rubbed her belly. “Actually, we have to stop at my place, before the diner. I _may_ have forgotten a change of clothes.”

“I happen to like what you’re wearing,” he said with a mischievous grin, gesturing to his light blue button-up shirt that she had thrown on (that, and nothing else) after waking up.

Emma snorted. “Nice try. But maybe I’ll wear it again, later.”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss her again.

After a few moments she pulled away from his embrace and walked toward his entryway where her (thankfully long) coat had been tossed over the back of a chair. Grabbing the coat and putting it on, she noticed a pile of mail on the floor.

“What’s this we have here? Bills I hope you’ve been remembering to pay?” she teased, bending down to grab the stack.

“I’ve been paying my bills!”

Ignoring him -- he was being far too sensitive this morning -- she flipped through the envelopes and found one that piqued her interest. “Ooh, a personally addressed letter from _England_... who’s Bart Roberts?” she asked, holding it out to him.

Killian furrowed his brow in confusion as he scanned the envelope, but then his eyes gave a look of recognition. “Ah, that’s nothing. I’m pretty sure I know what it is, and it’s nothing to worry about.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him. ‘Nothing’ never meant _nothing_ with Killian. “You know I’m going to make you tell me what it is at some point, right?”

“And what shall I expect in return for divulging the truth?” He tilted his head to the side, slowly licking his bottom lip.

She kept her face straight, but her tone light, the corners of her lips threatening to turn up. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

~~~

“Ugh, these damn pants won’t zip,” Emma shouted from inside her room, this time Killian waiting for _her_ outside in her kitchen. 

“Perhaps you could wear pants that don’t require zipping?” he called back.

She sighed in frustration. “I know that I _could_ , but it just sucks that I can’t wear my favourite jeans anymore.”

“Well, you will be in your non-preferred pants, and I will be in my non-matching socks. But together, we’ll make it through.”

Emma opened the door to her bedroom, having donned the more comfortable choice of sweatpants, and smiled at Killian. “You’re an idiot.”

He ignored her mock-insult, instead scanning her outfit. “You wore those pants when I first met you.”

She looked down. Yes, he was right. Those were the pants.

Strange that he had remembered.

“We should really get going,” she said after a moment.

He smiled and leaned in to peck her forehead. She knew there were words he kept on the tip of his tongue, words she just wasn’t comfortable with, not yet. But she hoped he knew how lucky she felt to have him in her life.

Because really and truly, she couldn’t have asked for more.

~~

Later that afternoon, after having gone grocery shopping (Emma convinced Killian that it was time to have food at _his_ place), the pair found themselves intertwined on the couch at Emma’s apartment, alternating from deep discussion about their pasts (he told her more about his complicated relationship with Milah) to casual chatter about their week (she told him about a hilarious patient she’d encountered, who flirted with her while delirious on pain medication).

“I hope you told him that you were taken,” Killian quipped, poking her nose.

“Sorry, I needed him to co-operate so I agreed to marry him.”

“Emma!”

“Just kidding, although he did ask me out quite a few times.”

Before Killian could react, they turned their heads in response to a light knock on Emma’s front door.

They shared a look. “Maybe that’s your hopeful suitor now...”

When Emma rolled her eyes in response, he asked more seriously, “Are you expecting anyone, Miss Swan?”

Emma shook her head, then got up from the couch and walked slowly to the front door, hoping it wasn’t some sort of salesperson. She hated salespeople.

Looking through the peephole, she didn’t see anyone. “No one’s there, maybe a package was delivered?” she suggested to Killian, who was now sitting upright on the couch.

She opened the door and, glancing ahead of her, she still didn’t see a soul.

But then she looked down.

“Um, can I help you?” she asked the young boy, probably about ten or eleven years old, standing in front of her.

Instead of answering her, the boy seemed to study her for a moment. He then asked, “Are you Emma Swan?”

Emma glanced out of the corner of her eye at Killian, who appeared to be just as confused by the boy’s appearance as she was. She looked back at the boy and replied, “Yeah, I am. Who are you?”

“Do you remember giving up a baby boy for adoption ten years ago?”

Emma’s eyebrows creased as she wondered why on earth this strange boy was asking such a strange question. But then her eyes widened as she took in what he might be implying.

“Of course I remember,” she answered, suddenly feeling short of breath.

“Well, that was me. I’m Henry.” The boy smiled widely at her, but she could only manage a meager smile as the dizziness began to slowly take over.

_This is my son._

_What the hell is he doing here?_

“Can I come in?” His eyes were bright and hopeful, but she was speechless, her mouth gaping open and her heart pounding rapidly.

She felt Killian’s hand press gently on her back, puzzled for a moment as she hadn’t heard him stand up nor walk to her. It was only then that she realized that she was gripping the door frame to steady herself from shaking.

With his other hand he gestured to her sitting room. “Why don’t you come inside and sit, lad.”

Henry took his seat on the couch, while Emma and Killian sat across from him on armchairs. Her pulse slowing, but only slightly, Emma studied the boy’s face, looking for traces of familiarity.

She was... _somewhat_ comforted to see that he looked a lot more like her than he did Neal. But that didn’t replace the growing frustration inside her. Why was she so upset to see him?

Thankfully, Henry hadn’t been paying attention to her scrutiny. His eyes had darted around her apartment, taking in the novel surroundings. But then he looked at her. What was he going to ask? What was she going to say? What _could_ she say?

“So, do you have any juice? I’m really thirsty.”

Emma exhaled in relief. She didn’t know why he was here, but thank goodness he wasn’t starting with tough questions. She hoped he’d never get to them, but why else would he be here? “Uh, I think I have orange juice. Is OJ good?”

“OJ is great.” He smiled again. She smiled back, this time slightly bigger. She was trying, she swore.

She got up to get the juice, telling Killian that yes, she was fine, no, he didn’t have to get it for her.

As she poured it into a glass, she overheard Killian conversing with Henry. Her son. _Oh god._

“Have we met before, Henry?” Killian asked. Why would Killian know her son?

“Maybe,” Henry answered. “Are you my dad?”

Emma nearly dropped the glass of juice as she carried it.

“No, lad, I am not your father.”

Henry’s eyes fell, “Oh.” But he picked right back up when Emma handed him the juice. “Awesome, thanks!”

Sitting down once again in her armchair, she looked back and forth at Killian and her son. It was as though her world was crashing into her. Being with Killian made it so easy to forget the difficult past she had, to forget all the bad and painful decisions she had made. And as soon as she felt that she was finally moved on, finally almost _happy_ , her past came knocking on her door. Literally.

And maybe that was exactly why she really didn’t want to confront Henry. Or, rather, to be confronted _by_ Henry. She thought her past wouldn’t follow her, but she was wrong.

What a stupid mistake to have made.

“So, Henry, is there anything I can help you with?” she asked carefully.

“Actually, there is. You see, I’m doing a science fair project, and I need to interview people who have had kids.” Before Emma could interject with the obvious, he added, “Doesn’t matter if you’ve raised ‘em or not!”

Emma frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Henry smiled. “That’s okay, I thought you’d be confused. I’m collecting data about moms who do different stuff when they’re pregnant, to see if certain things make kids smarter.”

“And you need to know all about--”

“What kind of stuff you did when you were pregnant with me, yeah. My teacher says I need a sample size of 30, and I needed one more. I would’a gone to my mom, but, well...” 

“Yeah, I get it. How many questions are there?”

“Twenty-six.”

She looked to Killian once again. He shrugged, but his look said he knew just how she was feeling.

It was her call, yes. Could a few -- twenty-six -- questions be so bad?

Do the interview, then say goodbye once more.

He wasn’t expecting anything else out of this, was he?


	9. Chapter 9

Most of Henry’s questions were easy for Emma to answer. Without much effort she could recall how often she listened to classical music (never) and approximately how many times a week she ate chocolate chip cookies (several). She didn’t go to any rock concerts, and she ate a decent amount of vegetables. Simple, really.

But then some questions, for some reason, were harder. Not harder to remember, necessarily, but harder to answer to the son she gave away.

“Did you ever read stories out loud?” This was the last question. Henry had played the part of objective researcher well -- quite well for a fifth grader -- and had never referred to himself specifically during their interview. She was glad, but she knew that his awareness of the delicate situation was just below the surface.

Heaviness grew in her chest. She suddenly remembered the lively leader of her prenatal workshop earlier that day, who had given the class a ‘homework’ assignment.

_“All of you ladies are at least sixteen weeks pregnant, yes?” Nods came from around the room._

_“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful. From sixteen weeks -- did you know? -- your baby can hear! Isn’t it incredible?” The circle of women smiled, some looking downward and stroking their bellies._

_“Oh! know what your homework should be for the next few weeks! I want you to read a story to your baby. Or sing a song! Your baby will get used to the melody of your voice and remember it when he or she is born! Is that not the most fascinating thing?”_

The leader’s enthusiasm got a bit tiring, but Emma had reminded herself that she was taking these classes so that she could do everything _right_ this time. She wanted to put in all her effort to be a good mother.

Something she had not done with Henry.

That, exactly, was why it was hard to answer this question; no, she had not read any stories aloud when she was pregnant with him. Because, then, she didn’t want to be pregnant at all. And that fact made her feel more guilty and resentful than ever.

_What did she do to deserve this, now?_

“I... did not,” she finally answered, doing her best to keep a steadiness to her voice.

Henry scribbled down her final answer in his notebook, then closed it, avoiding Emma’s gaze.

She wondered if he regretted finding her. Instinctively she felt as though, perhaps, there was another reason Henry was here, one that he was afraid to say. Part of her hoped that he’d keep it to himself. This was hard enough, thanks.

“That’s all, then?”

“Yep. Thanks.” He smiled at her, but she wasn’t convinced.

“Then why do I have the feeling that there’s more you came here for?”

Henry looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You could have found another person for your project. Why did you come to me?”

He shrugged, then when Emma gave him a knowing glare, he sighed, “I just needed to get away from home for a bit.”

“Where is home?” Killian asked.

She turned her head abruptly to face Killian; she had forgotten he was there, he’d stayed so quiet during the interview.

“A twenty minute drive from here.”

Noticing the absence of daylight outside through the window behind Henry, she moaned internally. She knew the right thing to do was to bring him home herself. “I have to take you back. It’s dark out, your parents are probably worried sick.”

“My mom probably won’t even realize I’m gone,” he muttered.

Yeah, there was definitely more to this than Henry was saying aloud. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to probe him, if it was her business.

Scratch that. It’s not her business.

Right?

“Regardless, you need to go home.”

He sulked, then nodded. He watched her as she stood up from her chair and smiled at him. _Soon, this will be over._

“Come on, let’s go,” she gestured to her entryway, “I just need to grab my coat, wait right by the door.”

Killian followed her to her room. “Do you want me to go with you, love?”

“No, it’s fine, I think I need to do this alone,” she whispered.

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

“It’s okay, you can go home.”

“Then text me when you get home?”

“Okay.”

* * *

“Thanks again for helping me with my project,” Henry said as they pulled onto the road outside her apartment.

“No problem, happy I could help.”

Several moments of silence followed, and his sulkiness from before turned to a poker face expression. She couldn’t tell from looking if he was all right. Despite that, she had a pretty good feeling he wasn’t.

Eventually she spoke. “I know it’s not my business, but is everything all right, at home?”

He stared blankly ahead for a minute, then looked at her. “It’s been kinda rough, my mom... my mom’s been going through a tough time. I don’t know if she’ll bounce back.”

“How long has this ‘tough time’ been?”

“Three months,” he grumbled.

“Yikes. I’ve been there, though. I _definitely_ know what a rough home life is like.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I grew up in the foster system. I never had parents, or anyone, really.”

“My mom and I used to be really close.”

“And now she’s dealing with some things and suddenly she pulls away,” she scoffed, “That’s not exactly fair.”

“Yeah, that’s what I think. It just kinda feels… like she doesn’t love me anymore.”

A lump formed in her throat, and at the same time her fists clenched on the wheel. _He doesn’t deserve this. I wanted him to have his best chance at a happy life, not this._

“Can you tell me what’s going on with her?”

“She and her boyfriend broke up.”

“A break up is no excuse to ignore your kid.”

“She doesn’t want to see me or spend time with me,” he continued. “All she does is work. I’m tired of it. I don’t know what to do.”

_My god, this poor kid._

“Henry, look. I know things seem bad now. I’ve had more than my share of tough times, trust me, and I know how much they suck. What your mom is doing isn’t cool. But you can’t let her drag you down with her misery. Hang out with friends, play videogames. You’re a kid, and kids can’t be expected to take care of their parents.”

Henry nodded.

“I am sorry though.”

“It’s not your fault,” he replied.

“Well, only a little,” she joked. Her tone was light, but in truth she believed it _was_ her fault.

It was entirely her fault.

She could have been his mother.

Maybe he would have been happier had she kept him.

She noticed her pulse had accelerated significantly, and she was now nearly death-gripping the steering wheel.

_Okay, hold it together._

_You didn’t keep him. You’re not his mom._

She took a deep breath, and decided she wouldn’t inquire further. He isn’t her son, she isn’t responsible for his happiness.

But even still, the feeling as though she _was_ ebbed through her, continuing as she reached his house. The house was well-lit in the evening darkness of late fall, and she noticed the stately grandeur of the large, white home.

_So at least he’s well-off_.

“Thanks again for the help, and also for the ride.”

“No worries. Take care of yourself, kid.”

She watched him leave her Bug and walk to the front door. There was no one greeting him as he entered; he seemed to slip in quietly.

Minutes passed and she knew she should leave, but the worry wouldn’t subside and she couldn’t bring herself to.

At some point, she saw Henry’s front door creep open, and started the car upon instinct. But it was only Henry, who looked relieved to see her still there.

She rolled down the window. “I was just on my way, I was just checking some emails on my phone.”

“Nah, I know you’re worried about me, and that’s why you stayed.”

Speechless and struck by his insightfulness, she let him continue. “I came out to see if maybe we could meet for lunch tomorrow? And we can talk more, about stuff.”

_Of course this isn’t over._

“Yeah, sure, kid. How about Granny’s Diner, do you know it?”

He grinned. “I love that place!”

“Great,” she smiled. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”

* * *

All she wanted to do was make sure that her son was all right.

It was the most innocent of intentions, she assured herself as she stepped into her apartment later that night, after returning from taking Henry home. He clearly wasn’t all right, and she wouldn’t feel right if she didn’t do _something_ about it.

Glancing into her living room she shook her head as she saw Killian sprawled out on her couch, fast asleep. _So he stayed._

She approached him, kneeling beside him to place a kiss on his forehead. “I told you, you didn’t have to stay, I’m okay on my own,” she murmured even though he probably wouldn’t hear her.

But then he inhaled quickly, signalling that whatever noise she’d made had woken him up. _Oops._

“Emma? Did I fall asleep?” he asked groggily, his eyes still closed.

“Seems like it.”

“Well it’s all your fault, since you forced me to wake up early for breakfast.”

Giving him a slight smack on his arm, he finally opened his eyes.

“Did you bring the lad back home?”

“I did.”

“Did that go all right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She’d tell him about her worries later, she told herself. But of course, he read her as if she was an open book.

“You’re doing the right thing, Emma. He’ll be fine, whatever’s going on will come to pass.” He closed his eyes again.

She sighed, and just watched him breathe for a little while. “Well, you’re not the only one who’s exhausted. I’m going to bed.”

He smiled slyly, “Is that an invitation?”

“Shut up.”

“Just checking,” he yawned, then rolled over to his side. In moments he was snoring.

_I wonder if our baby will sleep as well as he does._

Seconds after the thought came to her mind, she realized what she had implied and gasped.

Yes, genetically, it was their baby.

But she’d always thought of this baby as hers and hers alone.

And yet, she was having this crazy, dangerous thought. If she gave in and truly accepted Killian as the baby’s actual father, and that he might actually stick around and play that role... well, that would mean thinking too far ahead. She was attached to him, sure -- while the past three months hadn’t been smooth sailing, she wouldn’t be the last to admit that things were going pretty well for them, overall -- but she hadn’t let the “family” ideal cloud her judgment. She didn’t know if that was what he wanted, and even if he made his support known, who knew if that would change if he knew the truth?

Another concern appeared in her thoughts. Six months from now, when the baby was born, would Killian still be around? If they were to last as a couple, what kind of role would he play in her and her baby’s lives?

Would _Henry_ be in that picture?

Now _that_ was a crazy thought. With that, Emma came to the conclusion that she must be delirious and that the best option for her right now was to just leave Killian lying there and go to her room and sleep.

She needed all of the sleep she could get.

Although, she realized, she slept a whole lot better with Killian there.

And perhaps that was dangerous, too.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter! I appreciate each and every one of you who reads my story, you are all the best.

“Two hot cocoas with cinnamon,” Ruby winked as she placed the steaming beverages in front of Henry and Emma, who sat across one another in a booth at Granny’s the next day. The waitress left to grab their grilled cheese sandwiches from the kitchen.

“And I really thought I was the only one who has the cinnamon quirk,” Emma remarked before she took a sip.

Looking up from her mug she spotted Marian sitting down with her son in the booth just behind her and Henry’s. She caught her friend’s eye and gave a friendly nod. Marian, looking a little hurried, smiled quickly then went back to settling her son with a colouring book.

_Where is Robin? It doesn’t look like anything’s wrong, but there must be something for him not to be here. She hasn’t said anything at work, not that she’s usually that chatty about her personal life..._

Henry’s response jarred her back to their conversation. “Nope. I guess it turns out preference for cinnamon on hot cocoa is genetic?”

“You’re a smart kid.”

He shrugged and smiled at Emma. When his eyes met hers, he seemed to be forming a thought in his mind. Before she could say anything, he looked away.

“So, you wanted to talk. I’m all ears.”

Expecting Henry to talk more about his problems at home, she was surprised when he brought up an altogether different topic.

“Yeah, I wanted to tell you more about my science class, you see my teacher thought it would be a good idea to get a class pet...”

And he proceeded to tell her not only about his science class’ pet mouse named Mickey (she almost considered warning him not to get too attached, but he soon told her the woefully tragic story of Mickey the mouse getting sucked into a vacuum -- which, thankfully, he found more funny than disturbing), but also about his teachers and all of the other projects he was proud of.

She listened as intently as she could. As a child growing up without a home she knew how badly she’d wanted someone with whom she could share she small joys of her life (although few in number, they were still something). Someone she could just talk to, about stuff. About anything.

And clearly Henry didn’t have that person. So she understood him.

Cocoa mugs long emptied and only crumbs of their grilled cheeses remaining, Emma realized how long she’d let Henry talk. _Shit._

“Henry, don’t you think your mother’s going to notice at _some_ point that you’re not home?”

“Trust me, she won’t notice--”

Henry’s gaze shifted to the front door of the diner; a look Emma interpreted as concern painted his face.

_Oh no. It’s not his mother, is it? Crap, I knew this was a bad idea. She is going to freak, seeing her son with a stranger._

Not daring to turn and face the door, Emma asked in a hushed undertone, “Is your mom here?”

He looked back at her, shaking his head while she heard footsteps approaching. “No, no...”

She exhaled with relief upon recognizing Robin as he walked past their booth to join his family. But then, why was seeing Robin making Henry so alarmed? Did he and Robin know each other, somehow?

“So sorry I’m late, the meeting ran much longer than expected,” she overheard him say as he slid into the bench opposite Marian.

Once again observing Henry, Emma noticed that he still had a funny look on his face. “You okay?”

Henry quickly glanced behind him, then leaned toward her. “I don’t know if I should tell you, here...”

“That’s all right, you can tell me later, if you want,” she reassured, knowing she wouldn’t let him forget to tell her because her curiosity was already driving her crazy. “Actually, I should probably take you back home soon.”

Henry shrugged. _Something clearly isn’t right here,_ she mused. _He’s acting more like he was last night, all upset. Sure he doesn’t want to go home. Except today, he’s been different - a happy, outgoing kid. Until Robin came in. But why?_

Her questions were plentiful, but she would respect Henry’s wish to wait until they were somewhere else. She tried to distract him with more questions about school and his friends, which was mostly successful – but she also kept an eye on the table behind them, trying to piece together this mystery.

As she and Henry pulled on their jackets to head out, Marian got up to take her son to the washroom. Interestingly, not long after the pair had disappeared, Robin got up and approached her and Henry. Well, Henry, specifically.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say hello earlier, Henry, I didn’t want to interrupt your lunch.” He looked briefly at Emma, and she could tell that he recognized her from somewhere.

“It’s okay,” Henry said quietly.

“I hope you and your mum have been doing all right.”

“We’ve been okay.”

“I’ve been trying to reach her.”

“She’s been busy.”

Robin sighed, then smiled, although his eyes were pained. “All right, well, say hello to her for me, then. And take care.”

“‘Kay.”

Emma nodded at Robin, then placed her hand on Henry’s shoulder to lead him out of the diner.

So, it turned out she wasn’t going to have to ask Henry anymore.

Because now she knew _exactly_ who Robin was.

* * *

Emma knew this was going to be quite the conversation with Killian.

“Remember how you told me about your friend Robin had that ex who kicked him out, and now he’s with Marian?” she asked as she walked into her apartment after dropping Henry off.

Lying on the couch, he looked up from his newspaper at her. “No ‘Hello, Killian, how was your afternoon, Killian’?” After receiving a pointed look from Emma, he said, “Yes, I do recall telling you that.”

“Yeah? Well that ex is Henry’s mother.”

Sitting down on the chair across from Killian, she watched his eyes move from confusion, to understanding, to unease.

He dropped the paper in his lap. “So you’re saying--”

She nodded. “Robin’s ex-girlfriend--”

“Regina, who kicked him out of her house because he confessed he still had feelings for Marian--”

“My co-worker. Yes, that Regina. She is my son’s adopted mother.”

“Bloody hell.”

“You’ve got that right.” She sighed. “This all makes sense, now, though... Henry said his mom broke up with her boyfriend a few months ago, which matches up completely with your story. Actually, I don’t see why I didn’t think of it sooner-- now that I remember, you did say Regina had a son named Henry.”

“Did I also mention that she’s one to be feared when she gets angry?”

“Oh god, yeah, I think you did. Although I would have gathered that from the story you told.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’d be best if you and Henry kept your companionship mum.”

“No kidding. But honestly, it seems like she’s been totally ignoring him, I genuinely doubt she has a clue what Henry’s been up to.”

“I certainly hope she doesn’t. I’m quite surprised she hasn’t gone after Marian for ruining her relationship with Robin.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Tell me again, if she’s as fearsome as you say she is, why did you think she and Robin were so good together in the first place?”

Killian smiled. “Despite what I’ve said about Regina, being with Robin certainly brought out the best in her. I didn’t know her well, but Robin spoke very fondly of her while they were together.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. But who knows what kind of hell would break loose if you got her angry now.”

* * *

Their conversation turned from Henry’s mother to Henry himself. Emma shared the highlights from Henry’s stories, while Killian listened intently.

She _may_ have found herself lying with him on the couch. Which has gotten a lot harder, now that she’s gotten bigger. Thankfully, he’s been accommodating.

And she just so happens to have a pretty large futon-couch.

“Seems like you’ve grown rather fond of the boy,” he noted afterward.

“I’m just, you know, being there for him, while his mother isn’t.”

“Very honorable of you. Good form,” he said, kissing her hair.

He then moved his arm carefully from where it was resting on her shoulder. When he placed his hand on her belly, electricity jolted through her.

This was not something he did often. Sure, they touched in many other ways, but he tended to avoid _that_ area. She actually didn’t mind; it reminded her that the baby was _hers_. Although at the same time, there was a voice in her head that wondered if he didn’t do it because maybe he didn’t want that part of her.

He must have felt her shudder. “All right, love?” he murmured.

She exhaled, trying to conceal her shakiness as she nodded.

He then gently stroked her belly, and as he stroked her nerves slowly eased.

Yeah. Things were pretty all right.

For now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It has been forever since the last update, I know! THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for being so patient. You guys are wonderful. I hope you enjoy!

Early the following morning, Emma woke up in her bed with Killian’s arms wrapped around her from behind. She rubbed her palm lightly along his forearm, then grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckle.

He grunted softly, but he was still asleep. She smiled.

She didn’t have to get ready for work for another hour or so, so she let her mind wander through the whirlwind of events that had transpired over the last weekend.

Was it only just two days earlier that Henry had shown up at her doorstep?

Emma had surprised herself with how quickly she’d felt protective over the kid. This attachment she felt was a little rattling.

The bigger problem was this Regina woman. Emma couldn’t just leave Henry to a crazy, neglectful mother. She had to do _something_. Of course, she had no idea what that somethingwould be.

Letting that issue go for the moment, her thoughts drifted to the morning before her son appeared. She and Killian had enjoyed delicious pancakes at Granny’s, and then she had her maternity class… for some reason there was something she felt that she was _forgetting_ from that morning, something that had sparked her curiosity, but she had set aside for the time being… what _was_ that?

In a moment it came to her. There was a personally addressed envelope that Killian had received from his home town, back in England, that she’d noticed by his doorway. Killian had dismissed it, but her gut told her it was important.

She was making a mental note to ask him about again it later, when suddenly she felt a jerk in her abdomen. “Oh!”

That gasp was enough to wake Killian. He unwrapped one of his arms, presumably to rub his eyes, then gently put it back around her waist. “Everything all right, love?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. The baby just kicked really hard. Surprised me a bit.” She rubbed the sore spot, then added in a whisper, “Sorry.”

“I won’t hold a grudge. Not this time.” Emma snorted, and he burrowed his face in her hair. She watched as he moved his hand absentmindedly toward the area on her belly she had been soothing.

Then she grabbed it, pulling it back to her waist a little faster than she probably needed to.

She could feel Killian tense behind her, but she didn’t feel she owed him an explanation. Partially because it was simply _her_ body and _her_ baby, but also because Emma wasn’t sure herself why she’d suddenly changed her mind regarding “bump boundaries”.

Well, maybe she was. She needed to know what was in that letter.

She made up her mind that she was going to ask when she heard Killian begin to snore once again. Sighing and admitting defeat, she allowed herself to drift back to sleep, for there were at least twenty minutes of shut-eye she knew she could squeeze in before her alarm went off.

* * *

It wasn’t her alarm, however, that woke her up twenty minutes later. It was the doorbell.

Emma insisted to Killian that she’d get it – it was _her_ apartment, after all – but then, of course, grumbled the whole way to the door. Who on earth would show up at someone’s house at 7:30 am? Was it Henry?

Having donned a robe, she looked through the peep-hole and saw an unfamiliar woman with dark hair. The woman’s hands were on her hips, and she was grimacing. This wasn’t a neighbor complaining about noise, was it? She and Killian hadn’t even done anything _remotely_ noisy last night (she’d conked out pretty early – pregnancy was tiring). If anything, Emma should complain about having been woken up.

She stretched then opened the door. “Can I help you?”

The woman’s brows were knitted, but she looked directly into Emma’s eyes. “Are you Emma Swan?” she asked coldly.

“I am.”

“I received a… tip, that you have been spending some time recently with my son. Is that correct?”

Adjusting her robe, she answered casually, “You mean Henry?

“Well I think that answers my question.”

Well, this was happening faster than Emma thought it would. She figured Henry’s mother would probably find out what was going on eventually – apparently she should have given the woman more credit.

“You must be Regina.”

“I prefer Ms. Mills. And what exactly have you been doing with my son?”

Emma put her hands up, palms facing the other woman. “Listen, lady, he came here a couple days ago to ask me some questions for a project. He seemed to be struggling with some stuff and wanted to talk more, so we went out for breakfast the next day. That’s it.”

She didn’t need to mention that she’d made plans to walk him home from school that day, did she?

“I most certainly hope so,” Regina sneered. “I must tell you, Miss Swan, that I am not a fan of my son sneaking out and befriending strange women. And that you are encouraging this from him shows me how ignorant you are about taking care of children.”

Emma rubbed her forehead, stifling a yawn. She was _way_ too tired for this bullshit.

“All right, it’s one thing to show up at my house – _first thing on Monday morning_ –  out of concern for your son, but then to insult me? Who do you think you are?”

“I am a mother out to keep my son from danger. I can’t be sure that danger excludes you, and so I am here to warn you that there will be serious consequences if hear that you are spending time with my son again.”

“’Serious consequences’, like what?”

“Do you _really_ want to find out what kind of power I have?”

Okay, Emma concluded, this woman is nuts.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be. Goodbye, Miss Swan. I hope to never see you again.”

As she watched the other woman walk away, Emma muttered to herself, “Well it would help if you didn’t come to _me_.”

* * *

Killian was just waking up when Emma re-entered her bedroom.

“What was _that_?” he asked, yawning and propping himself up on his elbows. “Is someone here?”

“Regina,” Emma grumbled, leaning against the doorway. Killian’s eyes widened. “She’s gone now, though.”

“Oh gods. That was fast.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t know how she would have found out, unless maybe she heard from someone at the diner. I’m sure Henry wouldn’t have said anything.”

Emma told him about what Regina had said, including the rather _biting_ comment about her ability to parent and the threat of “serious consequences” if she were to see Henry again. She meant what she had said about not being afraid of the other woman, but she did have other qualms.

“I don’t think she’s stable, Killian. I’m worried about Henry.”

Killian licked his lower lip, his expression contemplative. “But didn’t you promise not to see him again?”

“… I actually didn’t. In fact, I promised Henry I’d meet him after school today.”

Shooting Emma a sly grin, Killian mused, “And I know you’re one to hold onto your promises.”

Yes, Killian knew her pretty well. Even without this conversation she would have gone to meet Henry, though the support made her feel pretty good.

Looking at Killian, a thought popped into her mind. _Don’t forget about that letter._

Killian smiled at her sleepily, and she returned it, then turned to head to the bathroom, the nagging thought still in her mind.

She wasn’t sure Killian would tell her what was in it, she considered. He would insist it was truly nothing. How could shebe sure it was, though? If she were hiding such a big thing from him, who knew what kind of secret he could be keeping?

Maybe, she decided, she’d just have to find out for herself.


	12. Chapter 12

Her plan to discover the contents of the letter was simple. Over lunch break that day, she was to drive to Killian’s apartment and use the key hidden in the planter to enter. (Killian had asked a few weeks earlier if she wanted a key to his place – she had refused, citing in her mind that the two of them weren’t _that_ serious, were they?) Then, all she had to do was find the letter and hope that it had already been opened.

It was all she could think about as she checked on her patients that morning – what could he be hiding?

She tried to reassure herself that it probably _was_ nothing, and for a moment she considered backing out of the plan. It wasn’t going to be her best moment, snooping on her boyfriend.

Then again, she'd convinced herself it was better to resolve, or confirm, her doubts sooner rather than later.

Once her break started, Emma nonchalantly crossed the reception area to get to the elevator, mentally crossing her fingers that no one would ask her where she was going.

Of course, mentally crossing your fingers doesn’t do much good. “Where are you off to, Emma?” Marian asked, looking up from her paperwork.

“Just getting some lunch.” She didn’t want to say she was stopping anywhere in particular, in case word somehow got to Killian.

“Mind if I join you? I’m just about finished this pile, then I’m good to go.”

Emma sighed to herself, trying not to let her disappointment show. “Sure,” she smiled.

The pair walked a few minutes down the road to a nearby sandwich shop. Emma figured she could eat relatively quickly with Marian, then tell her friend that she needed to run an errand before her next shift started. Trying to keep the conversation casual, she let Marian chat about her weekend and left out the craziness that had been her own.

“So things have been… pretty interesting, being back together with Robin.” Marian said as she sat down with Emma at the tiny shop’s corner table.

“Oh really? Good interesting?”

Marian furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sure it’s been a big adjustment, for all of you.”

“It definitely has been,” she nodded in agreement, then looked down to peruse her menu.

Emma studied Marian’s expression, feeling a twinge of concern. The couple had seemed fine at the diner last weekend, but she reminded herself that there are some things you can’t tell just from looking.

“Are you happy?”

Marian looked up. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course I am. I mean, it’s all I could have ever asked for. My family is together.”

 _Not all families are meant to be together_ , Emma thought to herself. But she wanted to be optimistic for her friend.

“Give it time, things will get better, I’m sure.” She reached out to squeeze Marian’s hand.

For a moment, she contemplated divulging at least some of the mess that was her life. She realized that she had no one other than Killian to talk to about Henry… and no one at all to talk to about the baby’s secret father.

However, she stopped herself before she said anything of the sort. For one thing, she wasn’t sure Marian would want to hear about Robin’s ex-girlfriend’s family. For another, she knew she liked Marian, but she wasn't exactly ready to share such a personal secret.

Instead, as the lunch went on, she conversed about the maternity class and Marian reminisced about her own pregnancy. If anything, it was nice to have another mom to talk to.

* * *

Their outing took only about a half hour, for which Emma was grateful. She was able to leave for her “errand” without rousing any suspicions, as far as she was aware.

Once arriving at Killian’s apartment, she rang the doorbell just to make sure no one was home. She had a cover ready: she’d left a hair comb there, and thought she’d grab it while she was thinking of it.

Thankfully, there was no response. She grabbed the key from the planter and turned it in the lock. She cursed under her breath when the door stuck. Then, she remembered Killian had a trick for it: holding onto the handle, give the bottom of the door a good kick.

Having made it in, she tried to calm her nerves by reminding herself that it wasn’t _that_ suspicious for her to be going into her boyfriend’s apartment without him there. He’d left the key there for her, after all.

It didn’t take her long to spot the envelope, sitting on top of the dresser in his bedroom. It was opened, to her relief.

She pulled the letter, took a deep breath, and read the handwritten note.

_“Killian,_

_It’s been a while since we’ve heard from you after you moved to Boston. Doing all right? You know me, I hate to be cheesy, but I will admit we miss you and your talent over at R & Co. We want you back, Killian. And we are willing to grant you triple your pay before you left. No, you did not misread that. Please let us know soon._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Barty Roberts”_

It wasn’t until she had put the letter back into the envelope, placing it carefully back on the dresser the way it had been before, that Emma realized she’d been holding her breath the entire time.

She exhaled shakily, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. She sat down on the bed and attempted to collect herself, though the effort was fruitless.

_How on Earth could anyone say no to this kind of offer._

Even if he did refuse, she knew him – he would insist it was because of her. And then he would resent her. Even if not now, eventually he would. She was certain. And that would be _way_ too much of a burden to carry.

But he must have said yes, or decided to do so. He would be a fool not to.

That, though, would mean he’s leaving…

Either way he chooses, she realized, she would not be able to handle the consequences. He either resents her, or he leaves her. She did _not_ want to put herself in that kind of position.

And so, she decided as she dialled the hospital’s number, there was only one thing she could do.

* * *

“Hey Emma!” Henry’s face lit up as he saw her approach him. He was sitting on a bench in front of the school with a backpack nearly twice his size to the right of him. He stood up and slung it over his back as if it was nothing – he was a lot stronger than she’d given him credit for. In more ways than one, she was sure.

Which, if anything, made her hope he would take the news she was about to share not _too_ terribly.

“Hey kid. Did you have a good day?” she asked as they started walking in the direction of his house.

“It was all right,” he mumbled.

Emma knew better. “What happened?”

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just some dumb kids…”

She stopped and turned to face him. “What did they do?”

“Well, I got my English assignment back. We had to write a short story. Mine was a fairy tale.”

“And they made fun of you?”

Henry pursed his lips, then started walking again. Emma matched his pace. “No, well, not because of that – they found out I got an A+, and they said that it _had_ to be because my mom’s on the school board.”

“They didn’t think you were good enough on your own to deserve the grade?”

“Nope.” He crossed his arms.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I believe you wrote an amazing story.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even read it?”

“Because even though I’ve only known you for three days, I’ve learned that you have an extraordinary imagination.”

He grinned, and she ruffled his hair.

“Come on, Henry, let’s get you home.”

She knew she had to tell him at some point, but she wanted to relish in as many happy moments as she could.


	13. Chapter 13

The walk from Henry’s school to his home wasn’t nearly long enough, Emma thought to herself as they turned the corner onto his street.

She’d let Henry babble on about the story he’d written – the detail and creativity of which amazed her – and it wasn’t until his big, white house was in view at the far end of the road that she realized she didn’t know how to say goodbye to the incredible kid she wished she had met sooner. She was _never_ one for emotional goodbyes, and _seriously_ , it had only been three days, yet the words seemed to have caught in her throat. (She chalked it up to the pregnancy hormones.)

On top of that, she remembered that she was definitely _not_ supposed to be seen by Regina with him.

As their conversation faded, they walked in silence for a few paces before she said, “Do you know if your mom’s home now, Henry?”

He shrugged. “She might be.”

Emma pursed her lips, then stopped walking to wrap her arm around Henry’s shoulder. “Okay, I should probably let you walk the rest of the way by yourself, then. Your mom’s not too keen on the idea of me spending more time with you.”

His face fell. “Why would she care, she doesn’t care about me at all,” he grumbled, kicking a stone on the sidewalk.

“I think she does care about you, and she wants to protect you.” _She’s definitely not going about it the right way though,_ Emma added mentally.

He shrugged her arm off his shoulder and raised his voice, staring into Emma’s eyes. “Yeah, right! All she cares about is herself!”

Her breath caught. In that moment it came to her that saying goodbye to Henry now would make her seem, to him, just as selfish as Regina. She knew that he counted on her, that their camaraderie, while new, meant a lot to him.

She had felt the unbelievable pain of being unwanted as a child. It was pain that she wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially not the child she had brought into this world and wanted only the best for.

…That would explain why she found it so hard to say goodbye.

She didn’t even have a moment to come up with a Plan B, however. A dark car slowed down to a stop beside them and rolled down its window.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” a harsh-eyed Regina Mills spat at her and Henry.

“I’m just walking home from school,” Henry responded quickly, “Emma was walking home from work and I asked her to walk with me.”

“I told him I couldn’t, but he insisted. How could I say no? He needed someone to talk to,” Emma added. She didn’t think the fib would go over, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. The last part wasn’t even a lie.

Regina stared at her with thin eyes. “I would expect such a tall tale from Henry. And you, Miss Swan, you’ve really only given me more proof as to how _unbelievably_ irresponsible you are. Well done.”

To Emma’s surprise, Regina then looked over at her son and smiled. “Did you get your story project back today?”

The boy’s eyes brightened. “Yeah I did, Mom! I got an A+,” he grinned.

“Good, I’m glad. I had a little chat with you teacher about how you weren’t doing so well in English, and – you know how I can have a bit of pull in things – we came to something of an… _agreement_ ,” she smirked lightly, then added, “You know how important it is for you to keep your English grade up, so you can get into the _best_ high school in the state.”

Emma watched Henry’s face pale. _How_ dare _she._

“So you did get my teacher to give me the A,” he said flatly.

“Oh, come on, Henry. I did it for your own good. This A is just what you need, especially since you’ve been slacking off on your studying. I tried taking away your TV and videogames, but that hasn’t been quite _enough_ for the time being.” She then glanced at Emma with disgust. “What are you still doing here? I _told_ you to stay away from my son.”

Henry looked at Emma pleadingly. Emma, however, had no idea what to do. She was horrified at what Regina had done to him. She didn’t want to leave him like this.

She did have to _leave_ , though. Boston was filled with her demons – both old and new – and she couldn’t stay there any longer. That had already been decided. She deserved the fresh start she’d never truly taken.

Maybe, though, the fresh start included more than just her and her baby?

Maybe… it included her _whole_ family?

Emma turned to Regina. “I’ll leave, and you’ll be guaranteed to never see me again, but can I at least have a moment alone with Henry to say goodbye?”

Regina appeared to consider the request for an instant, then scowled, “I’ll roll up the window, but I’ll still be here.”

That was fine with Emma – she was surprised to have even been granted a closed window.

She quickly knelt down to face Henry and whispered, “Henry, I’m moving to New York. I’m leaving tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, it was kind of a last minute decision. If you want to, though—“ she took a breath, hoping she wasn’t about to make some terrible mistake, but having the gut feeling that it wouldn’t be, “—you can come with me. But _only_ if you want.”

Letting him take a moment to process the information – she was certain he was more than overwhelmed – Emma glanced back and forth between him and Regina, sincerely hoping that the latter was oblivious to this conversation.

“I’ll go with you,” he finally responded, smiling.

Emma nodded, matching his smile. “Okay, I’ll pick you up at Granny’s at 6pm, sharp.”

The hope in his eyes let her know her gut was right. “I’ll try not to be late!”

Wrapping his arms around her belly in a hug, she reminded him, “You have to act sad, your mom thinks you aren’t seeing me again.” She felt him laugh, then he pretended to wipe his eyes.

A whole family would be pretty damn nice, she decided.

* * *

Decidedly not the sentimental type, Emma didn’t have many items to pack. Her suitcase and bag fit most of her clothes and other essentials, but she didn’t feel the need to take much else. It was a fresh start, she repeated to herself again and again as she pulled together garbage bags of the old things she was finally ready to get rid of.

Truly, though, she was avoiding doing what she knew would be the hardest of all.

Killian still didn’t know she was leaving.

She knew she owed it to him to at least say _something_ , but she also knew that if she were to to talk to him, he would most likely convince her to stay. And that wasn’t what she wanted. Either way there would be pain, but if it was of her own doing, she could at least convince herself that it was worth it. She’d be able to forgive herself for it.

Forgive herself the way she had never really forgiven Neal for what he had done. For how he had hurt her when she was most vulnerable. For how he had disappeared without a trace.

Staying in Boston all these years had allowed her to harbor her anger from the past. Moving to New York meant that she could finally let it go.

* * *

Four in the afternoon, two hours before she was to meet Henry, she found herself sitting at her kitchen table, tapping her fingernails on the surface. She was itching to leave. She was ready.

Ready, minus, well, having told Killian.

She decided to just pick up the phone and get it over with. She knew he was in a meeting around that time, and that she’d probably get his voicemail. That was undoubtedly the better outcome.

Dialing the number she knew by heart – and with time, she reminded herself, would fade from her memory – she put the phone to her ear.

The phone rang a few times before the voicemail recording played. Her heart began to race as she listened to the familiar, lilting voice. She took a shaky, deep breath. This was it, she was going to do it.

And then came the beep.

“Hi, Killian. It’s Emma.” Another deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is really sudden… but I have to leave Boston. It’s not a good idea for me to stay here anymore. I… need a fresh start.”

Her voice had broken, so she swallowed and wrapped her arm around her belly before continuing. “You told me when we first met that you’d needed to get away from your home, because staying there caused you too much pain. You needed space. Well, I’m finally realizing that I need that space, too.”

Realizing that she needed to wrap things up, she finished, attempting to keep her voice as steady as possible, “I hope that you’re okay. And… I wish you the best of luck.”

Then, she hung up and closed her eyes, allowing a tear to fall down her cheek.

She then wiped it away with her sleeve and looked down at her belly, rubbing it soothingly. “We’re gonna be okay, you, me, and Henry, right?”

The baby kicked gently, and she smiled. “Yeah, I thought so.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS! I know this update’s been a loooooong time coming, I really appreciate your patience! I also know that it’s a short one, but the next chapter will be up VERY SOON (I promise, you can hold me to this one). As always, your kudos and comments mean the world to me, so thank you! <3

Now five, she mused that she could just go _early_ to the diner, where she was to meet Henry at six. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the apartment, stubbornly ignoring any buzzing that came to her phone. (It had been buzzing nearly non-stop since Emma had left her message, but she knew that talking to him, or even hearing his voice, was out of question. Fed up with the noise, she eventually shut off the vibrate.)

She made sure every corner was spotless, though her efforts were mainly just to kill time and keep her mind occupied. Still, she was left with time to spare and nagging, unwanted thoughts. One of these thoughts surprised her: She realized she really wanted to say goodbye to Marian back at the hospital. To wish her luck, rather than leave without a word to the woman who'd become one of her only friends in Boston. She could easily fit that in before she left with Henry.

The lunch they shared just earlier that day felt like ages ago.

Her luggage ready at the door, she did another walkthrough of her apartment, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. With all of her things packed away, it didn’t feel any longer like the home she’d made for herself over the past ten years. It was just a space.

She carried all of her belongings out to the car, so that she could meet Henry right after her stop at the hospital. Once she picked him up, they would be ready to head on their way (after, perhaps, picking up a few doughnuts).

Once at the hospital, Emma took the elevator up to her ward. She knew she was going to miss the familiarity of the long ride up. She was going to miss the familiarity of pressing that middle, Floor 18 button and then seeing other riders enter and press the buttons for the floors below hers.

She was going to miss the familiarity of exiting the elevator and seeing Marian at the front desk, working away at all the administrative things she had to do. If she was going to be honest, she’d really appreciated Marian’s warmth, even if at first she’d found the persistent friendliness _kind_ of bothersome.

However, when Emma reached her floor and exited the elevator, Marian wasn’t at her desk. She stood by there, waiting for a few minutes for her friend to come back. But Marian didn’t appear.

Well, Emma decided, she might as well make the trip purposeful. She remembered she’d left a few of her belongings in her cupboard in the staff room. She could go grab those and, hopefully, Marian would have returned by then. Otherwise, she’d just give Marian a call. That would do, really.

She was surprised to see Marian in the back corner of the staff room, her cell phone to her ear and her expression hard to read. Marian hardly ever took personal calls during work hours.

Catching Marian’s gaze, she waved cautiously. Marian smiled half-heartedly in return. In a moment, she hung up.

Emma had gone over to the cupboards beside Marian, opening hers to grab a sweater and a comb she’d left in there. She stuffed them both in her bag.

“Hey, Emma. I didn’t know you were working tonight.” She noticed Marian’s voice lacked its usual enthusiasm.

“I’m… actually leaving Boston.” Marian’s eyes widened, and Emma continued, “It’s kind of a sudden thing, but I think it’s for the best.”

Marian sat back in her chair, looking crestfallen. “Oh, wow. Well, I wish you the best of luck, Emma. I’m going to miss having you around here.”

Smiling, Emma gently nudged her friend on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s what I came here to tell you. To wish you luck. I know things have been kinda rough for you; I hope it all works out.”

Marian shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m starting to really doubt that ‘things working out’ is part of fate’s plan.”

Emma furrowed her brow. “What do you mean? Did something happen since lunch today?”

(To be fair, she realized, a lot had happened to _her_ since then.)

Marian picked up her phone. “That was Robin. Apparently his ex called him to say that her son had gone missing. He says the kid left a note telling her that he had run away and to not look for him.”

Emma’s heart began to beat loudly. This wasn’t good. She wondered if Marian knew Henry and had recognized him with her at the diner the other day. That would _definitely_ not be good.

To Emma's relief, however, Marian didn't seem suspicious of her.

“Anyway,” Marian continued, “she was calling him to ask for help looking for her son. And he was calling me so I wouldn’t be surprised when I come home to find Roland with a babysitter, since he figures he’ll be out for the rest of the evening.”

Emma leaned against the cupboards, folding her arms. “That’s not so bad, though. She probably just figures Robin knows Henry and would know where to look for him.” Not bad for Marian, though very likely bad for Emma. Why did she have Henry meet her at Granny’s? Robin has seen the two of them there before. What was she _thinking_?

Marian pursed her lips. “That’s true. But, she hasn’t spoken to him in _months_. Suddenly she opens up contact again? I don’t know what to think, Emma…”

“Do you trust Robin?”

“Of course I do,” she replied quickly.

“Then you don’t need to worry,” Emma reassured. “As long as you’re happy, there’s nothing to think about.”

Marian frowned for a moment, then sighed, smiling. “Well, I suppose this is goodbye.” She stood up and opened her arms.

Since Marian had changed the subject, Emma decided not to press Marian any further. Besides, she just didn’t have the time.

Emma was about to hug Marian when she heard her name called from the doorway to the staff room.

She turned to face the admin assistant, who said, “Emma, you’re requested in patient room 1827.”

“I’m sorry, I’m actually on my way out -- for the last time,” she told her coworker, “I’m sure someone else could cover for me?”

“The patient insists.”

She pursed her lips. She promised Henry she’d meet him at Granny’s at six, and it was rather close to then. Not to mention he had Regina and Robin out looking for him. She really needed to _hurry_.

But she couldn’t help but be curious. “Who _is_ this patient?”

The woman motioned for her to come read the chart. She crossed the room and took the clipboard.

As she skimmed the file, her heart plummeted.

“ _Killian,_ ” she whispered.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What’s this? A NEXT-DAY update??? Yes, you can believe your eyes! Hope you enjoy! ::Blows kisses and hands you a tissue, just in case::

Her chest so heavy she could hardly breathe, Emma made her way down the hall to the room where Killian was admitted. Every effort that she had fought to keep herself collected over the past few hours was now in dire threat of crumbling to dust; and so, she walked slowly, trying _so_ hard to hold it all together but the pain she had shoved deep beneath her skin was now pushing relentlessly towards the surface.

She had an idea of what to expect when she’d peer around the doorframe and see him, but nothing could have prepared her for how utterly _broken_ he looked. He was covered in casts and bandages and bruises and blood and it was just too much; she had seen countless patients like this and yet seeing _him_ was more than she could bear.

He was okay, she knew, but only barely just.

She walked in as quietly as she could, knowing he was expecting her but not wanting him to make any sudden movements.

His neck fixed in a brace, all he could do was shift his eyes to see his visitor.

“Emma, is that you?”

She went to carefully sit beside him on his bed, leaning towards him as far as she could to meet his gaze, all the while limited by her bump. One corner of her lips twitched up, just slightly, while tears prickled in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Killian chuckled, then winced. “I was only joking when I asked for you, I know you don’t work the evening hours today.”

“That’s right, I don’t.” Her voice was thick, as much as she tried hide it.

“But I did promise that if I were ever in a situation such as… _this_ , I’d request you.”

“I know you did. But you didn’t…-“

“No, no. I’d never purposefully risk harming my devilishly handsome face, you know that.”

“I do, I do know that.” She couldn’t believe he was making her smile in a situation like this. He’d just been in a freaking _car accident_ , of all things.

A moment passed before Emma spoke again. There was a topic she knew she had to raise, however tender it would be. “Did you get…-“

“Your phone message?” Despite everything, his tone was soft.

She nodded, more ache filling her gut. She didn’t even know what to say. Her resolve was hanging from a thin string.

The idea that she could have truly said goodbye to Killian _forever_ in that message whirred in her mind, wreaking havoc on all the convictions she’d held onto—convictions about starting fresh, moving on to new things, raising her family on her own…

In this chaos, another thought came to her— that if he hadn’t made it, if this wretched car accident had taken his life, he would never know the truth about this baby she was carrying.

It wasn’t something she ever planned on doing, telling him the truth. It was yet another one of her _convictions_ , this secret that she’d kept for so long that it became a natural part of her being.

Everything she’d done, all these convictions she’d had, was for the reason of trying to stop herself from getting hurt. Trying to stop _both_ of them from getting hurt.

But really, she understood as she looked at Killian who she _knew_ , despite his jesting, was hurting deeply, this kind of thing really can’t be stopped. (He hid his pain behind jokes, while she hid hers behind cold, cement walls.)

The only way she could have prevented any of it was by deciding not to let him into her life at all.

And she really, really, wouldn’t have wanted that.

“Killian,” she whispered, gently grabbing his bandaged hand. Looking over him she saw that his other hand was missing, lost in the accident, but there was so much else going on that she could barely register it, let alone react.

He exhaled shakily. “Why are you _really_ leaving?”

She flinched at his words. His pain was now surfacing, raw and exposed. “Killian,” she said another time, “I made a mess, of everything.”

He looked at her, hurt in his eyes, as if still expecting a response to his question. It was not an easy question to answer, not even close. But she should have known sooner that he deserved the truth. He deserved so much more than what she had given him.

“I read the letter from your old job, with their offer for you to come back. I knew you’d want to take it. I… wanted to make your decision easier.”

He grimaced, adjusting his back to a more upright position. “I wouldn’t have left you.” His troubled gaze wouldn’t leave hers, and exactly this was why she didn’t want to say goodbye in person. She was so _angry_ at herself for hurting him this way. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I wish it was easier for me.” The fight to keep her emotions in check was failing, and she knew it as a tear trickled down her cheek.

He looked away, frowning. “Emma, I know that people have let you down. But I’ve sworn, again and again, that I wouldn’t, and I’ve told you that if you said the word that I’d be out of your life, and… we could have _talked_ about it.”

“I know.” As she spoke, her voice cracked. “I’m so, so sorry.” She pulled up his hand to press a kiss to his palm as other words bubbled to her tongue that she still wasn’t ready to say.

At least, not until he knew the full truth.

“There’s something that you need to know.”

She took a moment in an attempt to collect herself, wiping away her tears, knowing that her words needed to be chosen carefully. She needed to start right from the beginning… but when exactly would the beginning _be_?

A knock to the door then tore her attention from her thoughts. She turned to see Marian, hesitantly peeking in, her face covered in concern.

“So sorry to interrupt, I had no idea… Emma, I’m just on my way and I realized I hadn’t actually said goodbye.”

Biting her lip, Emma looked to Killian. His eyes were hopeful, but she still just wasn’t sure. “Well-”

Before she could finish (how she would have, she didn’t know), Marian continued. “And I heard from Robin again, apparently they found him.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. She had a feeling she knew what Marian was talking about, and that it was important, but it wasn’t coming to her.

And then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

“They found Henry,” she gasped, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“Yeah, he was just out at the diner; Robin was pretty relieved.”

Killian picked up on Emma’s unease. “Marian, if you could give us just a moment, and then I’ll leave you to your goodbyes.”

Marian smiled, “No problem. Though, I do have to go pick up Roland from his friend’s house.” She pulled her phone from her purse, pressed it on, and frowned. “And I’m running late, so I’d better go now. But I’ll call you later, all right?”

“Yep,” Emma said, realizing her foot was shaking and trying to hold it steady. Once her friend left, she turned to Killian. “Remember when I said I made a mess of everything?”

He shot her an incredulous look. “What else did you do?”

She inhaled nervously. “Henry… I told him he could come with me.” Killian moved to speak, but she stopped him. “I know what you’re going to say, and you can say it, but just know that I really thought I was doing the right thing.”

His response wasn’t nearly as harsh as she’d expected. “Why did you think that?”

She shook her head, trying to organize the disorder that was her mind after this whirlwind afternoon. “Regina… what she’s doing, how she’s treating him, it’s not right. I can’t let her make Henry feel that he isn’t good enough, the way I’ve been made to feel my _entire_ life.”

“And so you were trying to do the honourable thing, by removing him from such a situation.”

“Right,” Emma breathed, “Except, it wasn’t honourable. It was stupid. And now I’ve let Henry down, which is the last thing I’d want to do.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

She looked to him, ache swelling inside her. “He might,” she said quietly, “But I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Emma-“

“Especially,” she stopped him, grabbing his hand again, “After I tell you something, something that I probably should have told you a long time ago.”

For a moment, she said nothing as he watched her, concern painted on his features. “What is it?” he finally asked.

She swallowed, then bit her lip. _This was it._ She had to say it now, otherwise she’d never convince herself to do it.

_But it’s not his secret to know_ , a voice inside her argued, the voice of her convictions, the voice that had kept her strong over these past months. And it wasn’t without reason; sperm donors have no right to know _anything_ about the kids they father. He had agreed to that, she knew.

She also knew, however, that this secret had been weighing on her since the moment they’d met. Once it was out there, they could both finally move forward – together, or apart.

Inhaling deeply, she found the words to begin. “I knew who you were when we first met.”

Killian raised an eyebrow. “You did?”

She nodded. “I had found your profile in an online sperm bank.”

He lowered his brow, confusion in his eyes. “You found my profile…”

“Yes, and I… _picked_ you.” She looked down, her heart pounding in her chest.

He tried to adjust himself to sit upwards but his casts prevented him, and he groaned in frustration.

But then he looked at her, an inconceivable _lightness_ filling his face, and before she knew it, tears were forming once again in the corners of her eyes. “You mean… what you’re trying to say is…”

Emma shifted as close to him as she could and pulled his hand, his only hand, to touch her belly. Her throat was too heavy to speak; all she could do was nod.


	16. Chapter 16

“Emma…. I can’t believe…”

“I know.”

“And you never told me.”

“I know.” Tears were now falling down her cheeks, but she refused to let go of his hand to wipe them away. 

Looking into Killian’s eyes, she saw that his, too, were glazed over with tears. _How could I have done this._

“Why?” he asked breathlessly.

She looked away, fearing the sting of her own words. “I couldn’t take a chance that I was wrong about you.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, allowing everything they felt in this moment to surround them; the air was filled with grief and remorse, yet somehow, as Emma slowly realized, a sense of _hope_ surrounded them as well.

After finally taking a chance to dry her eyes on her sleeve, Emma looked to Killian.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked, as if it were more a statement than a question.

She wasn’t sure whether his response relieved her. “No, I don’t want you to leave,” he said softly. Clearly he had more to say beneath those words, though a bad feeling in her gut left her afraid to ask.

He continued slowly, articulating his words. “The more importunate question here is, whether _you_ want to leave.”

Fortunately for Emma, that question was easy to answer.

If anything had become clear to her in these past moments, it was this.

She leaned in towards him again, smiling through the ache that was subsiding slowly. “I don’t want to leave you, Killian,” she said fervently, shaking her head.

As carefully as she could, she pulled herself to him, wrapping him in a soft embrace as he lay in his hospital bed.

“I do forgive you,” he murmured into her ear.

She leaned back, her expression lowering. “How is that _possible_?”

“Because, Emma,” he said, a smile dancing on his lips, “I choose to see the best in you.”

Moving closer to him, she whispered, “I’m going to choose to see the best in you, too.” Cursing at her tears, she muttered, “Seriously though, you have to admit I was being incredibly stupid. And that I kept this _secret_ from you…”

Killian smirked, but she sensed pain beneath it. “You made a promise to Henry, and it wasn’t wise. I know that you know better than that. And as for _this_ …” he nodded down towards her belly, “I can’t say I’m not hurt that you didn’t tell me. Though, I trust you had your reasons.”

“They were selfish reasons.”

“That may be true.” He swallowed, then continued, “But we all act out of selfishness at times, don’t we? I didn’t want to worry you about the letter, which was why I didn’t tell you about it, though I should have.”

His reference to the letter from his old home sent a shiver down her spine, as she realized how _foolishly_ she’d reacted to it.

“I guess… we needed to have more faith in each other.”

“And in ourselves,” he smiled. He lifted his head slowly to meet his lips with hers, then he rested it again, exhaling sharply. “Wow.”

“Are you okay? I’m suddenly realizing I’ve completely neglected all my nursing duties,” she said, nearly laughing.

Killian grinned. “I’m all right. Well, could use a bit more medication. You see, nurse, I just found out I’m going to be a father,” he winked.

Emma grabbed the extra pillow from the chair beside his bed and – very gently – whacked him in the stomach.

“Hey, that’s not very good nursing! Nor is it a way to congratulate a man on his good news.”

She snorted, then pressed another kiss to his lips.

Then she bit her lip. “I just realized another thing.”

“What is it, love?”

“I don’t… have a place to _live_ anymore.”

* * *

During their quiet moments together at the hospital during his recovery, Killian and Emma made plans for her to move her things into his apartment.

Words like “nursery” and “baby-proofing” arose every once in a while, but her due date was still months away and they smiled knowing they had plenty of time to figure this _parenting_ thing out.

Despite his enthusiasm, Emma still found it hard to believe that Killian had forgiven her for the utter mess she’d created. After the chaos that was the day she’d packed her bags to leave (which begun with Regina appearing on her doorstep and ended with Emma falling asleep in the chair beside Killian’s hospital bed, with more than she could have believed in between – that is, if she hadn’t experienced it firsthand), they decided it was best for them to move forward and not look back.

There was one important detail Emma couldn’t leave behind, however: Henry.

Emma knew that there was no way she could have contacted him the evening she’d forgotten him at Granny’s, as terrible as she’d felt for what she’d done. So, she planned to wait by his school the following day to speak with him once he came out. She hoped he would forgive her too, but she undoubtedly had a lot of explaining to do.

When he exited the school, Emma caught his eye, and she saw him scowl and turn away as he walked.

_I deserve that._

“Henry, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me,” she said, following him, “I let you down. And I’m sorry. Will you hear me out, give me two minutes?”

He stopped and turned, still glowering. “You have one.”

“Okay. Well, I had every intention of coming to meet you. I just was making a stop at the hospital before then, when I found out Killian was in a bad car accident.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be just fine,” she reassured, “But he and I had a lot of very important things to talk about, things that couldn’t wait. And then I found out that your mom found you.”

“How did you know that?” he interrupted.

“I’d tell you, but I don’t have much time left. Where am I at?”

His brow creased. “Uh… let’s say, thirty seconds left.”

“All right. So, I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to come talk to you at home, because of your mom, and instead I came here today.”

“So you waited for me, to leave.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Henry. I’m not leaving.” As his eyes filled with confusion, she continued, “And I’m also not taking you away from your home. It was wrong of me to promise you that, and I am so, so sorry.”

Henry lowered his head, looking nothing short of crestfallen. “So I have to stay with my mom who doesn’t love me. And I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

Emma bent down to wipe a tear from his cheek. “We will find a way, you and me, to make this work. You have every right to know where you came from. And you deserve every happiness this world has.” 

I brought you into this world,” she added, her voice thick, “and now that I know you, I will not give up trying to bring you that happiness.”

Soon her son’s arms were wrapped around her and she was whispering in his ear, “I’m so glad I know you, Henry.”

* * *

Within a few days, Killian was released from the hospital with a sling around his arm and a smile on his face that refused to fade.

His body ached from the aftermath of the car crash, yet a contagious joy radiated from him and Emma found herself anything but immune.

If anything, this sense of bliss deflected many of the worried thoughts that appeared in her mind, thoughts that tried to remind her of the walls she’d built around her heart.

They were still there, yes, but she’d welcomed a visitor through the guarded doors.

Of course, it wasn’t without good reason: Killian finally knew she was having his baby. He finally knew she’d kept it a secret from him.

And he was okay with it.

He was _more_ than okay with it.

The fact that this secret no longer loomed between them lifted so much of the unease she’d felt; despite how much she had enjoyed being with him, how happy he had made her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a ticking time bomb on this happiness. Now the ticking was a distant echo.

He _knows_ , and it’s _okay_.

Not to say that things were _perfect_ – the adjusting that Killian had to do, now without his left hand, was an uphill battle that slowly crumbled their happiness around the edges, quietly stealing the merriment from the moments that, as they took on this idea of being a _family_ together, should have brought pure bliss.

But Emma knew perfection, in this world, was far too much to ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS, so much, for all of your love and support. I see your kudos and comments and it means the world to me. Whether you've been following the story from the beginning or just recently, you are real troopers for sticking with me and I appreciate it so much.
> 
> The story's not over yet, so stay tuned!~


	17. Chapter 17

Killian, now a one-handed man, wasn’t shy to ask Emma for her help doing the tasks that had once been mundane.

She’d be pulling strawberry jam out of the fridge, hastily making breakfast before they left for work – he’d insisted on heading back to work just a couple weeks after the accident, contending that he was mostly healed from the injuries, he still had his writing hand and he spoke aloud in meetings anyhow – and she’d hear his lilting voice call from the bedroom.

“Emma, love, would you mind assisting me?”

She’d throw a pained smile in his direction (more for her sake than his – he held so much freaking _pride_ in himself; he could ask for assistance but he didn’t want anyone’s pity), put down the jar, and head to their room.

_Their_ room.

What a strange concept Emma was just starting to get used to.

(When everything had only ever been _yours_ , and you had been so adamant about keeping things that way, it was anything but easy to accept something as _shared_. Though the fact that _Killian_ was the one sharing with her made the ordeal seem not so much like an ordeal after all.)

Killian would be sitting on the edge of the bed, his unbuttoned shirt revealing a chest that would make Emma wish she were taking the shirt _off_ rather than the opposite, and he would flash her a goofy grin as she would draw near to him.

She would meticulously fasten each button in its hole, her stomach grumbling because she’d remember the bagel she had been preparing, and once she’d finish he would pull her hand in his, intertwining their fingers and leaning his forehead against hers.

As they’d hold each other close, memories of the night she’d nearly left him would slowly fade from their minds. They didn’t need to remember the foolish mistakes of the recent past; all they needed was hope for the future.

And together, they had a lot of it.

* * *

As weeks passed, Emma grew more and more comfortable with the notion that she and Killian were actually having a family  _together_ – that this baby was not just hers, but  _theirs_ .

(A room was one thing, a _child_ was another.)

For a while it had been hard for her to shake the sense that she was supposed to be doing this thing on her own, and she felt remorseful for it.

Going back to the day she’d decided to look for a donor, she remembered that she’d wanted to prove to everyone – and herself – that she, alone, was strong enough to raise a child, to accept the challenge that she had once denied.

Now, she found herself realizing that it was _okay_ not to do this alone – that she could have support, she could have a _partner_ in this, and that made her no weaker than if she didn’t have those things.

In fact, as she learned from helping Killian adjust to living without a hand, asking for help when you need it makes a person that much stronger.

Another thing that Emma, and Killian, realized as the milestones of her pregnancy went by was that choosing to take off the mask of a brave face was hardly a display of weakness, either.

She would think of Henry and how, in her mind, she’d failed him – she was trying so hard to do things right with this new baby, yet she felt hopeless trying to find a way for her to be a part of Henry’s life, to help make his life better, without his mother knowing.

(Emma wasn’t _afraid_ of Regina, but rather what the woman would unleash on Henry if she found out he’d disobeyed her.)

And Killian would find her, sitting in her yellow Bug after returning from another maternity class, with tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Noticing him approach, she would unlock the door to let him in. Without any words he would pull her in a hug, his warmth slowing her heartbeat and the scent of his chest softening her nerves.

At Emma’s first doctor’s appointment since Killian’s accident, it was his turn to remove the façade.

When Dr. Whale called Emma’s name, Killian looked to her, his eyes searching. She opened her mouth, taking in what she knew he was asking, a heavy feeling growing in her chest. Then she nodded towards the doctor. _Let’s go._

It was the first time he would sit in the exam room with her.

Dr. Whale didn’t remark on the additional presence in the room, though he smiled pleasantly and gestured to the seat beside the door as Emma lay down on the large couch that occupied the centre of the room. Emma wasn’t sure whether to mention anything to the doctor; for this pregnancy and her last, these situations had always involved just her— never a guest, let alone the father.

Killian watched quietly as Emma answered the doctor’s questions. She would occasionally glimpse at Killian with a knowing smile, and he would smile back, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

_What is going on with him?_

It was soon time for Emma’s ultrasound, and she found herself shivering as Dr. Whale spread the cool gel over her belly in the _already_ cold room.

Killian noticed, and cast her a look with an eyebrow raised. “You all right?”

It was the first time he’d spoken during the appointment. She shuddered again.

“Yeah, it’s just cold.”

He nodded, leaning back in his seat. She watched as he fiddled with a bandage on his arm, and tried to catch his gaze.

“Hey, c’mere.” She extended her hand. “We’re gonna see what, um…” she trailed off, suddenly frazzled. Killian took her hand, squeezing it.

“What your baby looks like,” Dr. Whale finished coolly as he placed the device on her abdomen.

“What our baby looks like,” Emma repeated in a whisper as she looked at the screen.

Dr. Whale moved the device gently, allowing an image to form on the monitor, then pointed out some of the baby’s noticeable features as its parents watched wordlessly.

Emma was so engrossed in the video that she hardly noticed Killian’s reaction beside her until she turned to look at him.

She gasped quietly when she saw tears glazed over his eyes.

“Killian…” she murmured, rubbing her thumb over his.

When he didn’t meet her gaze, she asked, “Is everything okay?”

The doctor looked between them, giving a sympathetic smile. “I’ll give you two a couple minutes.”

When Dr. Whale left, Killian sniffed, composing himself quickly. “I… am glad I’m here to see this.”

A heavy, regretful feeling grew in her chest. He didn’t need to say that, had things not turned out the way they did, he wouldn’t be in here. She knew he wouldn’t sting her with those words, regardless of how true they were. But she had to say _something_.

“I’m so glad you’re here, too,” she said earnestly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

With that, a flow of tears fell from Killian’s eyes, and this time he didn’t try to stop them. Instead, he leaned down to kiss Emma’s lips. She didn’t mind when drops fell onto her face, merging with her own.

After a moment, he lifted from her and coughed to clear his throat. Then he mumbled, “Well… perhaps I would.”

Emma frowned, her heartbeat quickening. “What are you saying?”

Killian put his hand up to reassure her. “No, no, I don’t mean… What I was trying to say was…” He lifted his bandaged arm then continued sombrely, “I would have two hands, so I could imagine holding our child in both of them.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, we take a little break from the story of Emma and Killian (a short break, I promise!) to look a little deeper at Regina's story and her relationship with Henry.

_Regina_  
  


She hadn’t heard the creaking of her office door open, nor the tapping of footsteps approaching her. Yet, what surprised Regina Mills most about Henry’s appearance in front of her desk was the fact that he was even _there_ in the first place.

Regina wasn’t necessarily on good terms with her son since he’d attempted to run away a few weeks earlier.

Once she’d found him sitting in the back booth of a small local diner, she’d gone quickly from relieved to livid.

“What on Earth did you think you were doing?” she’d fumed, holding her son’s arm a little _too_ tightly as they exited the diner.

Henry grimaced, shaking from her hold but still walking alongside her. “I needed to get away.”

“And how _exactly_ did you plan to do that?”

He looked down, his eyes unreadable to Regina, then his expression hardened. “Doesn’t matter, it didn’t happen anyway.”

Regina exhaled discontentedly. Regardless of what Henry would tell her, she’d been pretty certain she knew just _who_ caused this deviance in her son. “Well, you’re grounded, indefinitely.”

Since then, whenever she’d come home from work, she would find him quiet in his room, doing his homework. Well, _that_ had been a welcome change. Whenever she’d peek in, he’d glower at the floor, avoiding her gaze. A few days, she’d decided, would be unfortunately necessary before probing him about his failed escape, as she knew she’d get nothing out of his sulking.

A week had passed and Regina’s impatience had reached its limit. She knocked on his door, and, without waiting for a response, opened it to see him reading in his bed.

“Henry?” He didn’t look up from his book.

“Henry, I know it’s not me who you’re _really_ angry at,” she said smoothly, moving to sit down on the end of his bed.

This time, he glared at her.

“You couldn’t possibly have thought I wouldn’t guess this had to do with your new… _bond_ … with Miss Swan.”

Henry flinched, and she knew she was right. She smiled.

“I’m not surprised. She was foolish to think she could get away with this without me suspecting her. She’s a bad influence, Henry.”

“Well at least _she_ cares about me,” Henry muttered.

Regina scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Henry. Of course I care about you. You can’t stay mad at me forever, I’m your mother.”

“I _can_ and I _will_ stay mad!” He hurled his book on the floor.

She shot him an exasperated look. “I have had _enough_ of this, Henry.”

“So have I!”

“I am trying to do what’s _best_ for you. That’s what mothers are supposed to do.”

The words that would plague her over the weeks that followed then came out of Henry’s mouth. “ _But I don’t want you to be my mom anymore!_ ”

It was with those words that she knew she had done what she had _sworn_ to herself, time and time again, that she wouldn’t.

She had become just like her mother.

* * *

Regina was certain that growing up with Cora Mills as a mother would leave _no one_ unscathed.

The woman’s unyielding ambition for both her own success and her daughter’s meant that Regina was pushed and prodded and forcibly moulded into the ideals that Cora held with an iron grip.

Cora had been raised in a penniless family with a name that held no pride. Working as many part-time hours as she could fit in her late teenage years, she could barely scrape by meals for herself and her parents, let alone tuition for college. Yet, despite the scorn of her neighbours and peers, she found herself with a respectable business degree and hopes for a better future with her own family. She took great glory in her ability to start from nothing and build a life on her own, and she believed firmly that any child of hers would do the same.

It was, certainly, a lot of pressure for Regina to follow her mother’s aspirations. Cora had insisted, repeatedly, that it was essential for Regina to work hard, study hard, and enter a high-paying career. Oh, and have children as well.

Not that Regina believed these were adverse goals to consider in life – but with Cora, it wasn’t a consideration: it was _the way things were going to be, or else_.

And so naturally, Regina tried to rebel.

She’d spent her entire life trying to be the “perfect child” of her mother’s dreams, and it had drained the spirit that had once coursed through her veins. So, in her last year of high school, instead of spending every minute studying and preparing flawless college applications, she focused on what was more important in _her_ life – her boyfriend, Daniel, whom she’d kept a secret since they’d begun dating at the start of her senior year.

Forevermore Regina would feel a chill run down her spine when she’d remember _that night_ – the night when a letter arrived at the Mills home, reading that she had been denied acceptance to Cora’s top choice of university.

The night when her mother’s scorn went from hostile to harrowing, when dinner plate fragments scattered across the floor and threats hung heavy in the air.

She had been so frightened by her mother’s reaction that she vowed to spend an extra year of high school with her nose so deep in the books that she would forget the world around her entirely.

Including Daniel.

Cora had forbidden her to see him ever again, and a devastating bike accident meant that she never could.

On her second round of college applications, Regina was accepted into a program worthy of her mother’s standards, and continued to be pushed towards academic success. It was exhausting, but she couldn’t falter lest she face a wrathful Cora once again.

However, her mother’s new demands placed a burden on her shoulders that was too heavy to bear – Cora insisted that she have children, and soon.

Regina was set up with numerous men of Cora’s choosing, and she considered herself lucky that news of her evasiveness at each dinner had taken a few dates before reaching her mother.

She pleaded with Cora to give her some time before she was to date again – the wounds of Daniel’s passing were still too fresh and she simply wasn’t ready. But her mother wouldn’t hear it.

Finally, she’d had enough. She’d satisfied her mother’s wishes for academic success, and was on her way to career success, but for her own sanity, she needed to draw the line at starting a family. It was just _too much._

This led her to make one of the biggest decisions of her entire life, one that would shatter her relationship with Cora completely and change the course of her life forever.

Regina’s mother died years later, not having spoken to Regina since then, knowing her daughter would never bear children of her own.

Of course, adoption hadn’t even _crossed_ Cora Mills’ mind, as far as Regina was aware. But Regina knew it was an option, and she kept it in the back of her mind along with the certainty that she was _never_ to treat her future child the way her mother had treated her.

And now, she realized that some things had been pushed a little _too_ far back in her mind – only in this moment, in Henry’s room, did the memories and vows she’d made flood back to her consciousness and suddenly she felt a strong need to lie down.

* * *

A week after Henry’s outburst, during which he avoided any and all unnecessary contact with Regina, she found him standing across from her desk.

“Henry,” she sighed.

“I’m still mad at you. But I’ll talk.”

She finally saw the pain in her son’s face, pain that she was, in part, responsible for. Her heart sunk. “I… understand, why you’re mad.”

And suddenly words spilled from Henry’s mouth. “I’m mad because you never wanted to spend time with me anymore. You were always working, and you were too sad after Robin left to talk to me, and then you got me a fake grade on my story and you didn’t even read it-“

“Henry, I-“

“Emma wasn’t too busy, and Emma read my story. Emma believed in me.”

Regina realized they both had tears in their eyes, and she reached out to hold her son’s hands gently from across the desk. She was relieved when he didn’t resist.

“I should have made time for you, Henry. I should have believed in you. I… I am sorry. I truly hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did. For being a bad mother. There was no excuse.”

She gasped when he let go of her hold, a spike of worry in her gut. She stood up, expecting him to leave.

But then he walked around the desk and wrapped his arms around her waist. She held her son tightly, tears streaming down her face.

“I forgive you, Mom.”

“I will try to be better,” she stated, her voice thick with both regret and conviction. “I promise.”


	19. Chapter 19

Emma was frowning at the thick book she held in her hands, biting her bottom lip as she read the back cover, when Killian found her in the bookstore at the mall, a smug grin playing on his lips.

“Ah, I knew you’d be here. ‘New Mum’ section, very predictable.”

She rolled her eyes at him and put the hardcover back on the shelf. “I told you when we got here that I was looking for a book. And,” she finished the sentence with an elongated gesture to her bump. “So thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Killian snorted, tilting his head to the side. “Bit feisty today, are we?”

Emma sighed, then half-smiled, meeting his eyes. “Sorry, just a bit… overwhelmed. I’ve had a kid before, but I’ve never really been a _mom_. And I’ve never had a mom of my own, to learn from.”

She turned to look at the vast array of books before them. “So, unless I want to turn to the unreliable source that is the internet, I think books are my best bet.”

Soon Killian’s arms were wrapped around her from behind, and he buried his chin in her messy, blonde hair. “Found anything good?”

She pursed her lips and continued to glance over the titles that filled the shelf they faced. “Not sure. There’s so much to choose from.”

Before one could catch her eye, she felt her phone buzz in her purse. She pulled it out and peered down at the screen that read, “Unknown Number.”

Killian loosened his embrace and when she gave him a look – _Who could it be?_ – he simply shrugged.

She answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Emma Swan?” The voice was familiar, and in an instant she knew who it was.

It had been nearly a month since she’d last seen this woman, and she’d done nothing to aggravate her since then. So what was _this_ for?

And _how_ did she get her phone number?

“Yeah?”

Killian had been looking at her with a furrowed brow, so she mouthed to him, “ _Regina_.” His eyes widened.

“Miss Swan, it’s Regina Mills, Henry’s mother. I’d like to meet with you, at Granny’s, if possible, to discuss some things.”

“I’ve stayed away from Henry, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Emma said flatly.

“I know you have. Aside from that time he tried to run away, that is, which I know had to do with you.” As she mentioned Emma’s transgression, Regina sounded surprisingly un-hostile, throwing Emma for a loop. “But don’t – don’t worry about that. I just have a few things to say and I hope you’ll be willing to listen.”

Emma inhaled slowly. Finally, she said, “All right, fine. You want to meet now?”

“How does fifteen minutes sound?”

She looked to Killian, who appeared to be, still, entirely confused. She gave him a waving gesture not to worry about it. “Yeah, sure, fifteen minutes.”

Then she hung up.

“I have no idea what she’s got up her sleeve, but for whatever reason, she didn’t seem mad at me. Which is kind of _concerning_ , considering I nearly kidnapped her child, but we’ll see soon what’s going on.”

Killian simply smiled at her, nodding. Emma wasn’t sure how to read his expression, so she ignored it and made her way to the exit.

“You’re not going to choose a book?” he asked, following her.

“Nah, not now. Too much on my mind.”

They continued walking in silence. Then, on their way out of the mall, he asked, “So where are we going, then?”

She smirked at him, hitting the _unlock_ button on her key ring.

“Good ol’ Granny’s, once again.”

* * *

Regina stood up from her seat in the booth and smiled at Emma when she entered the diner, Killian trailing behind her.

Emma noticed that Henry wasn’t in the booth with his mother, though a quick scan found him across the diner, engrossed in a video game that he was showing to a couple of other kids around his age.

_He looks happy_ , she thought to herself, relief warming her cheeks.

Upon Regina’s gesture for them to sit, she and Killian slid into the booth and watched as Regina then took a turn to glance at Henry. Emma could tell that she, too, knew that something had changed in her son, though Emma wasn’t quite sure what had caused it.

Finally, Regina spoke. “Thank you for coming.”

Emma nodded, uncertain of what to say. Under the table she extended her right hand, across Killian’s lap, to hold onto his own.

“I also want to thank you,” Regina continued earnestly, in a way that surprised Emma even more than earlier on the phone, “For allowing me… the _privilege_ , that I’ve had, of raising Henry. He is a truly remarkable boy.”

“I know he is.”

“And I want to… apologize. Because I know I have been harsh towards you. And towards Henry, too.”

Where was this even _coming_ from? All of a sudden Regina is being _remorseful_?

Emma found her thoughts spilling off her tongue. “He— he came to me, he tracked me down, to tell me how miserable he’s been. How you’ve been—” she realized she was speaking very likely too loudly, so she lowered her voice to a whisper, “— _neglecting_ him. I had to do something. I know I may have gone out of line in some ways, but I also know that he’s my son and I couldn’t let him be _miserable._ ”

Regina put her hand on the table, out towards Emma. “Which is why I’m apologizing. We have _both_ made mistakes here. But for Henry’s sake, I think it’s best we move past them.” She looked over at him again, and this time he looked up and grinned brightly at their table. “I know he won’t be happy without you in his life. Would you be interested, at all, in finding a way to make that work?”

Emma looked to Killian, who smiled at her, his eyes warm. He squeezed her hand softly.

Then she looked back at the woman in front of her, a woman whom she barely recognized. Emma wasn’t sure if this was some sort of trick, but her gut said it was well worth the risk. How could she say _no_? “I would be interested, absolutely.”

* * *

When Killian got up, upon Emma’s request, to say hello to Henry on the opposite side of the diner, she took this chance to get to the bottom of what was going on.

She glanced at Regina, who was looking at her expectantly, and exhaled.

“I just think it’s a little fishy that suddenly you want to… bury the hatchet, if you will,” she began, still under her breath. “You wanted me to have nothing to do with your son, you criticized my ability to parent… I was under the pretty clear impression that you thought I was a bad influence.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m willing to see if you can prove me wrong.”

Emma shook her head. “But that still doesn’t explain where this is all coming from.”

Looking down at her arms folded on the table, Regina nodded. Then she looked up again. “I understand it may seem strange. But I came to a realization not long ago, a realization that the way I was parenting Henry… wasn’t what was best for him. And that I wasn’t making him a priority, not in the way that I should have been.

“See,” she continued, her voice low, “I was going through some… difficult times. It’s no excuse for what I’ve done, but it’s all I have. That, and… well, let’s just say my own mother didn’t set the _best_ of examples.”

Emma pressed her lips together, nodding. “And you want to try to make it better by allowing me into Henry’s life?”

Regina gazed over at Henry, who Emma could tell was asking Killian enthusiastic questions about his arm. “Yes… but on one condition.”

Smiling darkly, Emma responded, “I had a feeling there’d be a catch.”

“A catch that’s for the best,” Regina assured. “I only want you to be in Henry’s life if you can promise that you won’t let him down.” She glanced at Henry once more, then back to Emma. “Not again.”

Pain washed over Emma’s entire being. “Of course you knew about that.”

“I was the one that had to bring him out of the despondency _you’d_ caused.”

“It was hardly only my fault; he was sad _before_ that.”

Regina opened her arms exasperatedly. “Well then, why don’t we _both_ promise to do our best not to let Henry down again? Does that sound fair?”

Emma played with her thumbs for a moment before she responded, “Yeah, that sounds pretty fair.”

The other woman smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Now, let’s go grab Henry and tell him the good news.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been quite a long time, hasn't it? ....Whooops.
> 
> A new chapter, finally - I hope you enjoy!

The sun shone warmly on Emma’s skin as she walked, one hand in Killian’s and the other resting on her belly, to Henry’s school. Regina had called her in the morning to request that she pick the boy up that afternoon and watch him for the evening, and Emma had happily obliged.

It was few weeks since their meeting at Granny’s; Regina had followed up with a phone call to outline the arrangements of their unique situation. “You can spend time with him once per week,” the woman had said. “Twice in a week if I’m feeling generous. I don’t want him to forget who raised him,” she’d added curtly.

“Fair enough,” Emma had responded. Of course she’d wanted more than that, but all she could do for now was be thankful she’d been allowed to see her son at all.

Especially after the crap she’d tried to pull.

Killian brushed his thumb along Emma’s absentmindedly; she noticed his gaze was unfocused and nudged him gently in the elbow. “Hey!” he joked, flashing her a warm grin.

Emma giggled, then ventured, “What’cha thinking about?”

“Mmm,” he cleared his throat. “Just daydreaming a little.”

“’Bout what?”

Killian hooked his arm around Emma’s as they continued walking. “Oh, well,” he smirked, tilting his head to the side, “I’m actually thinking about a surprise.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “A surprise? Who for?”

“For you, actually,” he responded, his voice more hesitant.

Emma halted, unhooking her arm and turning to face Killian. “You know I’m not very big on surprises.”

Killian gave her a knowing smile, nodding. “I know, love, I know. But I think you’re going to like this one.”

She felt no need to ask whether backing out of the surprise was a valid option—she knew he’d tell her what it was if she insisted.

Before she could give it any further thought, however, she and Killian had reached the neighborhood elementary school. Amongst the smiling and laughing kids who exited the building was Henry, books and papers grasped messily in his arms.

“Hey kid,” Emma called out once she could tell he’d spotted the pair waiting for him.

“Hey Emma, hey Killian!” he greeted, running towards them.

Emma wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder to offer a side-hug. “Excited to see us an extra day this week?”

“Am I ever!” Henry beamed, and Killian ruffled his hair. The three began their walk to Emma and Killian’s apartment.

As they walked, a question that Emma been hoping to ask since receiving the phone call that morning floated to her mind. She wasn’t sure if she _should_ ask, in spite of her curiosity, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. “Did your mum tell you why she had us come today?”

Killian shot her a cautious look, but she ignored it. Henry scrunched his face. “She didn’t _tell_ me…”

Curiosity got the better of her. “But do you know?”

The boy shrugged. “Not exactly. But I overheard her on the phone with Robin. She was in her office and the door was shut, but I listened through the vents.”

“How did you know it was Robin?” Killian was the curious one this time.

Henry looked off to the side. “I _may_ have also listened in on the other phone, before my mom noticed and told me to hang up…”

_Regina talking with Robin again… Huh._

“ _Henry_ ,” Emma said half-sternly, half-jokingly.

Henry gave a feigned-innocent smile and shrugged. “Whoops?”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh, and decided not to probe any further, knowing the touchiness of this subject.

Right on cue, Killian changed the conversation to inquiring about Henry’s day. Emma’s curiosity about Regina and Robin drifted in and out of her thoughts as they walked, but she tried to remember to stay present in the moment with her kid. She was grateful for every second she had with him, and she needed to make these extra ones count.

* * *

“Wanna go for lunch?”

Emma was shaking her hands dry in the staffroom sink when she heard the voice beside her.

She turned to Marian, whose eyes looked tired beyond belief, and smiled. “Sure, just give me one sec.”

They walked in silence, aside from the odd awkward comment about the weather, to the sandwich shop. Emma had a feeling she knew what Marian wished to talk about, if she wanted to talk about it at all, but she didn’t want to be the one to begin.

Robin had ended things with her and gone back to Regina. Emma was all but certain of it.

She thought back to when she’d met with Marian for lunch the day of Killian’s accident—Emma could tell something was up in Marian’s relationship, and her coworker didn’t look too happy. And Regina had kicked Robin out—he hadn’t left of his own accord. He was still in love with Regina. It was only a matter of time.

Moments after the pair sat down with their sandwiches, Marian spoke. “You know how I was late to work yesterday?” Emma nodded, swallowing a bite of her food, and the other woman continued. “I thought I was pregnant.”

Emma nearly choked on her bite of grilled cheese. _And Robin LEFT her after that?!_

Marian added quickly, “I’m not, I’m definitely not. But for a short little while, I thought I was.”

“Did you tell Robin?” Emma couldn’t help but ask, but Marian didn’t seem to mind the question.

“I…” Marian began, but her mouth was full of panini. Emma was on the edge of her seat in anticipation of the inevitable. “I thought about it. But I wanted to be sure, first. So I stopped in the lab downstairs.”

“And you found out it was a false alarm.”

“Right.”

_…So what happened when she told Robin??_

To Emma’s confusion, however, Marian continued: “So I didn’t tell Robin. And I didn’t tell him because I’d been doing a lot of thinking, waiting in that doctor’s office.”

Trying to mask how puzzled she felt, all Emma could do was nod.

“I realized… When I thought I was pregnant, I wasn’t happy or excited. All I felt was dread. And I was filled with so much _relief_ when the test turned up negative.” Marian paused to take another bite while Emma absorbed the information.

“So you didn’t want to be pregnant.”

Marian smiled, shaking her head. “It was a wake-up call. I didn’t want to have another baby, and I didn’t want to have another one with Robin.”

_…Wait, what?_

“Yeah,” Marian sighed, answering Emma’s silent question. “I ended things with Robin. I mean, of course he can still be a huge part of Roland’s life. He was such a huge part of mine, once upon a time… but things changed, between then and now. We still care about each other, but we just don’t… _fit_ anymore.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m fine. Exhausted, but fine.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment before Marian spoke again. “So how are things with you and Killian?”

Emma grinned. “They’re good. He’s got this… _surprise_ for me tonight.” She rolled her eyes, still smiling.

“Sounds exciting.”

“Hopefully not _too_ exciting. This pregnant lady can only take so much.” Marian laughed, and Emma joined her.

So things with Robin and Marian weren’t quite as Emma had expected, but in the end, Marian and her son were okay—and that’s all that really mattered.


End file.
